Follow the Sun
by WiccadBaltane0501
Summary: Stranded in the desert, without food, water, or her supplies, Sakura decides to head west to the land of shifting winds and scorching sands. She knows of someone out there, someone who, above anyone else, holds the best chance of finding her in this barren land. Able to only hope her attempts to raise attention aren't in vain, she sets off across the sands toward a sense of safety.
1. Part 1

A mildly GaaSaku fic that will span just a few chapters.

I do not own NARUTO

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Follow the Sun

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Static. Disorientation. No sense of control.

Panicked, she tried desperately to inhale, to suck any sort of breath into her collapsing chest. But to no avail. All that filled her was that pulse, that shocking, electrifying pulse that infiltrated her body and tore it to shreds. She had been scattered to the wind, thrown into something she could not comprehend, could not make sorts of, and somewhere within those first dreadful moments, she lost herself.

Pressure.

Something _real_ beyond the static, beyond that buzzing of electrical plasma, pressed down. A bridge to feeling, a moment of clarity amongst the mindlessness. It was a hand on her arm. A very strong hand. One she knew well to fear.

Sakura didn't know who he was, where he had come from, but it was clear who had sent him and what he wanted. Sasuke. But no, not yet. He hadn't been ready yet, that's what the man had said. He wasn't enough of…something yet. So that's why he was there, to help Sasuke along, to cut his ties to the village he was predicted to abandon. Kakashi had put up a good fight, so had Naruto, and she had done her best to keep their fighting condition strong, avoiding injury as best she could to further take care of them. But she hadn't been distracted enough to miss it, miss what she had so wanted to be a misjudgment or simple mistake.

It was his hesitation. Though only for a moment, Sasuke had hesitated in his attack, seeming to contemplate the advantages of continuing to fight for his comrades in arms. Naruto was too blinded by his worry for his friend to see it, but Sakura had. And so had their attacker. He had been waiting for the doubt to play across those onyx eyes of his, for the wavering of loyalty and creed. He had accomplished his task, sowing the seeds of doubt, birthing a mirage of clouded and ever darker thoughts in an already tainted mind.

Only one thing left to do, cover it with pain and water it with hatred. His eyes set on Sakura then, amusement and determination thick in his voice as he taunted her team.

 _Irritating, isn't it?_ He had said. _How she can so quickly undo all my hard work._

He had promised her death then, his eyes flickering daringly over her team, challenging them to try and stop him, and as he charged her she was sure it was the end. But the static from his touch surprised her, the crackle and pop and whistle that filled her ears, and instead of blistering electrical heat as she had expected, she was zapped into a sense of numbness that overtook her.

But here she was, with that same hand pressing down on her arm, giving her a moment of clarity while he dragged her. For just that moment, Sakura found herself. From her arm, she found her fist, and after clenching her muscles she felt her body flare to life within the pulsating whirlwind in which they flew. Anticipating that this sense of sudden orientation was unexpected and wouldn't last long, she quickly wrenched her arm from his grip, trying to kick against anything she could contact, anything to get her distance.

The iron grip on her arm gave out, and at the mercy of her attacker's little trick, she was cast from the skies. Like she was thrown from lightning itself, her body seemed to burst forth from the air, spinning rapidly and without control. Suddenly blinded, she held out an arm to try and break her fall but huffed loudly as the wind was inevitably knocked from her lungs. Her back hit the ground, her chest heaving and desperate for air. She gasped, shielding her eyes from the harsh light above her, as hot, dry air filled her lungs.

She coughed, her ribs aching from the solid impact and she groaned as she shifted to her side, her left arm sinking into the ground below her. Coughing again as her heart and lungs ached and throbbed, she stared as her fingers slipped into the ground and it swallowed her hands as she propped herself up.

Blue skies awaited her as she sat up, clear and cloudless, stretching from horizon to distant horizon. And where the blue bent down to touch the earth it was greeted by a swelling sea of sand. The desert.

Her heart sank.

She looked behind her, and to her left and right, all around, eyes straining against the blinding sands for a sense of direction, for a glimpse of life-saving green. Nothing. Like she was trapped in the ocean, she was at the mercy of the desert's crystalized waves. The distant dunes along the horizon, back where the glossy mirages permeated the dry sands, looked manageable enough, but Sakura knew that in the flesh they were monsters. They towered dauntingly over the actual floor of the desert, hundreds of feet tall, with bases that might not have truly shifted for centuries. This was an ancient land, a land filled with stranger and harsher dangers than her forest home, and she had marooned herself here.

At the thought, she quickly reached for her side, where she kept her field satchel secured to her belt…where it _had_ been secured.

She huffed out a shaken breath of dread, her brow knitted together in frantic thought. She had taken her belt off to better access her utilities, her field medical kit, to quickly stop a nasty gash from slowing Kakashi down too much. It had held her knives, her scarf, her goggles…her canteen.

" _Shit,_ " she hissed through her teeth, once again searching the distant dunes for anything familiar, anything to indicate some sort of civilization.

But wait, was that actually a good idea? Sakura thought back, to not six months ago, to the attack on her homeland by their perceived allies from the desert. Flashes and broken bits of memory danced through her head; the blood in the streets, deception thick in the air, and monsters set free from their nightmares. In the end, she had a front row seat to that fight, to what _he_ had become. That crimson color that stained her dreams, those dead eyes that held contempt and hatred for the waking world, the way he looked at her…like _she_ had done something to _him_. Something terrible. But she had done nothing, it was him, him and his people that had done the unthinkable.

They had infiltrated her village under the pretense of peaceful sportsmanship and they would have leveled it to the ground too if left to their own devices. She was still uneasy, still upset and feeling the pressure of the rebuild. She walked by rubble piles waiting to be hauled off and patch worked buildings every day on her way to her new training. But she knew better than to continue with her suspicions, though, for they had all been played in the end.

Their leader killed, his place taken by a wanted criminal, and their soldiers used as pawns for a game that not even they were intended to win, Suna had been quick to do what they could to make up for their transgressions. Without a Kage they were now in need of allies more than ever and they had been dispatching mixed teams on missions, aiding in the rebuilding of trust between soldiers and their lands. But here in the desert, as a native of the forest, she was told to exercise caution. The western lands; the kingdom of unforgiving desert sands and the hardiest of survivors, was to be considered hostile grounds.

A chill ran through her, suddenly and unexpectedly, an echo of the electric cage she had ripped herself from. It was very much out of place amidst the dry and sweltering heat that was already beginning to dampen her brow, and it brought her mind back to her predicament. Whatever had brought her here had only dropped her, not stopped the travel altogether. Though still at a loss for which direction she currently faced, she gathered they must have been traveling a general direction of crudely west. One had to if they wished to reach any part of the desert from the Konoha lands.

Surely she couldn't stay here, the man might very well come back for her and finish what he promised. Or perhaps even worse, keep her alive. She couldn't imagine being taken as a prisoner and used in bartering or held for ransom.

But where had he dropped her? Her relation to the forest was unknown thanks to the endless expanse of the sands surrounding her, and she felt as though she wouldn't be catching an eyeful of green anytime soon. So instead she wondered where she was in relation to Suna. The city itself was large and held a surprising number of people, at least to a native of more fertile lands. But the people of the desert were steadfast and resilient, capable of hardships unmatched by other lands and seemed to take the teachings of the desert wherever they went. It was a difficult life out here, where dunes constantly shifted and winds whipped up storms that could tear flesh from bone, but it _was_ possible to survive.

Sakura took hope from that.

She looked up, to where the sun perched high above her, watching with boiling scrutiny as it awaited her next move. Once again, her heart sank. They had been attacked late morning and it seemed whatever travel method her attacker possessed did not take much time to cross a given distance. She guessed she had disappeared from the battlefield in the forest not even a full hour ago. This was a lot of things, but good was not one of them. At high noon, the desert was going to be barren of all life besides her. Poor, foolish little her.

Water couldn't hope to survive under such conditions, nor could her sweat so she had no hope of staying cool from a stray breeze, and she could already feel her throat start to dry from breathing the scorched air. Vaguely, Sakura wished that she wasn't human, that she was smaller and capable of all the wonders of the natural world. Like all the things that lived out here with little more help than instinct. Bugs and spiders and lizards all hid from the sun that baked the sand at her feet, waiting for it to sink and cast shadows over the du-

"That's it!" she gasped, throwing a hand over her forehead and turning her eyes to the sun.

It glared back at her, challenging her as if to say, _What? What could you take from me to help you now?_ She only smirked back at it, her answer clear in her eyes. Direction. She had learned throughout her teachings how to find direction with nothing more than your surroundings, all basic survival skills that any good ninja would know. But being from the forest she had been taught their own techniques. Her father, a more cultured man of travel, had added other variants to these lessons as well, such as things he had learned when traveling with the common folk of other lands.

She stared off towards the west, towards what she assumed was the general direction of Suna, of troops, and patrol scouts and traveling messengers and teams for missions. Even stumbling across one of the nomadic tribes of the wild country would have been a saving grace. Even if they refused to share their water or their food, they could still tell her where to find some. It would have been the difference between life and death out here. This land may have _looked_ barren, but it held a litany of life that all had the potential to either promise her refuge and safety, or misery and death.

She very much hoped for the former of the two outcomes.

Setting out, she tried to make a plan in her head, something sort of like a map to follow, or a way to gauge direction. It would only get hotter and she could expect to dehydrate, she was already starting to wipe away sweat from her brow, and without a cloak or robe to keep her sensitive skin from the desert sun, she would only lose moisture even faster. As if hoping on a dream, she yet again tried to touch her canteen, as if wishing she had just missed it earlier. No such luck. She had no scarf to keep her face from burning, no goggles to protect her eyes against the microscopic particles of sand, and no food for energy.

She was as on her own as she had ever been. Her knowledge could help her, she knew, but that took an insider view of the land. Someone from Suna could point her the right way, she was sure of it, but finding someone in this wasteland was a challenge in itself. Being as conscious of her feet as possible, she walked as straight as she could, expecting to waver in her stride every so often on her dominant side, and headed toward the west, intent on following the sun until it gave her some sort of reprieve.

Sand stuck to her feet, kicking up behind her and spraying across her bare calves as she walked. Unused to walking on sand, she didn't favor the way that she had to compensate for the ground shifting continuously below her, ever needing to regain her balance as to not tumble down a dune. She had a certain one in sight, a tall and daunting thing in the distance, toward the west, that she was sure could give her a good view of the surrounding country. It would be a tedious climb from the lower, shallower dunes that she currently walked, but upon seeing the height of the dune she reserved some hope of finding the towering stone walls of Suna.

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There was nothing. Not a single thing that offered sanctuary for her. Her shoulders slumped, her knees gave out and she fell to the ground. It was a mistake, given that the sand had been baking under the sun all afternoon, but what was she to do? Her shoulders and cheeks were starting to feel tight, sunburned most likely, and her shirt stuck uncomfortably to her back and under her breasts. She thought of removing it, no one was around to see but she quickly thought better of it. She was warm, much too warm for her own liking, but exposing more of her skin to the parching sun would only spell more trouble for her.

She groaned, the sound scratching passed her dry lips, and she settled on rethinking her plan.

The dune had not proved resourceful in gaining her position, it showed her only the same nothingness for what surely seemed to be hundreds of miles around. She gave up thinking she could find her way through the shifting dunes by herself and instead focused on ways of getting noticed. Had she been in the forest it would have been as simple as finding a large boulder or rock face. Just one punch, one concentrated, focused punch, and everyone within a five-mile radius would notice at least _something_ from it. Even hitting the hardened dirt, whether ripe and damp with life or parched and sundried, it always sent a shock wave.

Sakura's eyes fell to the ground. She pursed her lips, unsure it could even properly be called _ground_. After all, the sand wasn't very solid, just sort of in…piles. Albeit very big piles. She stepped down and her foot sank through the surface, absorbing her impact and dispersing her weight to the grains around her, and she was quickly convinced that the waves that normally got her noticed wouldn't go even half as far through the sand.

She had used chakra pulses before, to be noticed, to distract, and most recently for long distance terrain mapping. She had become better, much better than anyone had expected, and was propelled by her natural gift for control.

Oh yes, control, she had nearly forgotten. The heat must have been getting to her. She placed a sweaty hand against the back of her neck, peeling the damp strands from her skin, and pooled some chakra in her palm. She sighed with momentary relief as her hand cooled and chilled the blood to pass under it. She gave herself a blissful minute of relief, only to give herself once again to the mercy of the sun. If she could scatter the cooling well enough, she could keep her blood from getting too hot, from making her overheat, perhaps stave off heatstroke for as long as possible.

But with no food or water, no shade to protect her from the elements, she was sure her reserves would drain quickly. She had already felt fatigued on the battlefield. She needed timing and patience, something that was becoming more and more of a struggle as her mind turned away from logic and training, and toward the panic of being stranded and alone.

Sakura shook the thoughts from her head. It wasn't helping anyone, especially not her, and resolved to go through with her plan. Sakura was not entirely familiar with the mechanics of a sand dune but she was sure that pressure shocks were not carried as far through the shifting ground. And again, she did not know the extent of the abilities of Suna's ninja. Were some like herself? Were there others so naturally predisposed for sensing another's chakra, trained to pick out the slightest wavering of the magnetic energy that consumed living things? She could only hope so.

What was it that she had always heard before…fortune favors the bold?

She squared her feet, closed her eyes, and took a deep, steadying breath through her nose before slowly exhaling. A few more times and she was settled, her heart rate slowed, her blood pressure dropped, and she focused herself. She knelt to the sand, pushing her fingers into the loose grains and pressing down until she sunk to her wrists. Another steady breath, the feeling of a warm static building in her fingertips, and her hands pulsed.

She could practically see the shock wave ripple out from around her as it sent the tiny grains of sand shivering in its wake. Little rivulets cascaded down the sides of the dune, the only clue that she had done anything at all, and, as the dune settled itself from the pulse of energy, Sakura continued on. She started west again, trying her best to deal with the glaring heat as long as she could before cooling herself down again, before sending more desperate pulses into the empty country. Before losing hope.

Her mind flashed with red again as she walked from the spot of her first pulse, a clear beacon to a foreign presence. It was a very familiar shade of red too, one impossible to forget after last season's exams. Gaara Sabaku had been on her mind a lot ever since then. She hadn't originally paid him much attention, there had been so much going on at the time to distract her, and hadn't really understood that strange heaviness that followed him around until she saw him fight. Then it made sense. It had all made sense.

He wasn't just good, he was _damn_ good. His confidence was not bred of arrogance and vanity but from hard work and spilled blood. His abilities did not belong to him but to the very beast that tried to drive him mad, and yet he wielded them like they were his own. With his mind cast astray by the teachings of his youth, he had wandered the plains of his life alone and assaulted by the scorn of those who had created him. To be forever misguided and misunderstood, both by those around him and by his own self. Naruto had held great hope that this stranger, this foreigner who shared his demonic fate, would only change for the better. Sakura could now merely hope that he was right.

Then again, Naturo had hope for a lot of ridiculous things.

She was in Gaara's element now, in his country and his territory, and at the mercy of his people. Even though it still frightened her to remember how he had nearly pressed the very life right out of her, she knew that if she could count on anyone being able to find her in this vast emptiness, Gaara was going to be her best bet. Her heart rate rose, a little panicked at the thought of a lone run in with him out here, and she tried to settle herself. The last thing she needed was unnecessary sweating to further dehydrate her.

With thoughts constantly drifting from her hopeful rescue to her team back in the forest, she didn't notice that, as she walked across the shuffling peaks of the dunes, her course took a slightly northern turn. The sun baked her skin, kissing it pink and red until it burned, it sucked the moisture from her pores and left her dry and desperate for the cool caress of water against her skin. The sand scratched her feet and stuck to her scalp, unrelenting in its torture as if punishing her for how unprepared she had been for her surprise rendezvous.

Sakura sighed, resigning herself to whatever lay in wait for her in these ever shifting sands and entrusting herself to the clemency of the ordinarily unforgiving desert.

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	2. Part 2

I do not own NATURO

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"Capitan Temari?"

She didn't move her eyes from the landscape of sandy waves before her, and instead only inclined her head in question. "Hm?"

The clear hesitation and crinkle of paper interrupted her peaceful thoughts and she looked to her second in command. She had recently been given her own team to do patrol runs. Her younger brothers were on this team as well and Kankuro had made it very clear he didn't appreciate not acting as her second. Gaara had remained silent on the matter, must like she could always trust him to do. Ever since the death of their father they had been in need of maintaining security around the borders, for the sake of their city as well as their nomadic populations. Her brothers were good at that.

Currently, Gaara and Kankuro were off scouting the borders to the east and she was awaiting their return for mission reports, boring in her own opinion. They had been gone since the early morning, scheduled to radio in with their estimated return time any minute now. Her second – a man she had only bothered to remember as Miller – stood next to her atop the great walls surrounding her village. Miller's eyes shifted to the ground, the radio at his ear crackling with the static of recent communications.

"Well?" she asked, growing rather impatient with his lack of forwardness. He may not have had the strength that her brothers had, but he was a smart one for their age, with the promises of a potential leader. _If_ he could get that lump out of his throat when he spoke to her.

"It's Niko, said she thought she caught something," he explained, not really understanding the chatter that had come in over his headset. The look in his captain's eyes told him to elaborate so he tried reciting the broken message as best as he could. "She's out west, edge of the Basin, said she felt something through the ground, almost missed it too. Sensed some chakra with it, but whatever it was, it was far."

"How far?"

"She's standing by for orders to proceed."

Temari stood and looked out beyond the city to the sands to the west, to the vast nothingness stretched on, seemingly without end, until it hit the canyons and old crumbled mountains of hard and lifeless stone. The nomads called it Death's Valley, and for as long as she could remember that endless stretch of dunes that lead up to it was very ironically called the Basin. Temari knew her scout well, she was not one to shy from the desert or even wait for backup before patrolling potential threats.

Whatever she had felt must have been way, _way_ out there to call for a second opinion.

She shook her head. "Whatever it is would be best saved for Gaara, it could take her hours to reach it as is. Continue with rounds but be vigilant for anything else to come this way. And get me a radio."

Miller nodded curtly and relayed the order, the crackle of static signified the confirmation and Niko was back to her normal patrols along the border. Temari went back to scanning the east, waiting for the specks of darkness on the horizon that would signify the return of her brother's team, or the breezy twisters of sand that told her Gaara was on his way back. She had recently begun to notice the difference between his own and the ones that moved across the dunes naturally.

No such sign yet, but she was patient. In the desert, one had to be.

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"Gaara, do you copy?" asked the crackle in his ear. He sighed, not at all pleased with himself for allowing his sister to tag him with this radio during his outings. He took these scouting trips to get away from the city, not maintain a direct line back to it.

He had been trying very hard over these past few months to maintain a sense of control over everything he had once let run wild. There were many times, in the breezy quiet of the desert nights, that his doubt would come out to play and he felt himself slip back to his old ways. His siblings had been his first way to practice his patience, a fundamental something he had gathered was crucial in social situations, which to him was anything involving something else that breathed. But this was hazardous territory for him, uncharted waters and he'd never been taught to swim.

Thus these little outings, a chance for him to reclaim a sense of calm over himself, taking advantage of the immense seclusion of the desert to manage his demon in newer, less catastrophic ways. But something new had come about within himself as well, after his fight with Naruto, and he was struggling to deal with it. Guilt. He hadn't truly felt guilty in years, but after that fight, it had crashed over him like a ton of bricks. He supposed that's why he brought the radio with him, his sister had asked so nicely, and with such…dare he say it…sincerity, that he would have felt guilty about refusing. After so many years of worry, who was he to deny her peace of mind?

So, with some reluctance, he brought up a hand and threw back the hood of his cloak and pulled down the light cotton scarf from around his face. He pressed the radio bud in his ear, it seemed to pop in response. "Copy," he muttered, his voice almost lost to the wind around him. He left his team with Kankuro and hadn't given orders or maintained communications in hours, it took a moment for his voice to work again.

"Niko picked up a pulse through the ground out in the Basin, northwest of the western walls. Possible foreign entity."

"How far?" he asked, his eyes already moving towards the west.

The receiver in his ear clicked and his sister's voice, though mechanical and broken, spoke again. "She called for a second opinion."

"Hmph," he grunted, more so to himself than the voice in his ear. It _must_ have been far. Farther than he expected nomads this time of year. Gaara clicked the button again and the line cleared for him to speak. "Kankuro is on his way back with the scouts, I'll rendezvous at the western gates and check it out then."

"Took the northeast for yourself this time?" Hardly a question.

"Naturally."

He could hear static laughter over the receiver. "I'm glad you know what you're doing out there, Gaara," she said, her voice holding an obvious smile, even through the crackles. "It's not a good day to be out on your own."

"Not for you, maybe," he said, the ever so slight upward inflection in his voice telling her it was his version of a joke. She snorted a laugh. "Get me the estimated epicenter of the last known pulse. ETA one hour."

"Copy that," Temari affirmed, the hard click after her voice signifying the end of her conversation with him.

Gaara unhooked his canteen from his side belt and took a long needed swig. His sister had been right, it was _not_ a good day to be out alone. The heat alone was bad enough, but the relentless sun was enough to disorient even a seasoned navigator and –

 _Foreigner_

– some had been known to succumb to –

 _Hostiles aren't to be missed._

Gaara grimaced, hardly even bothering to try and finish his thought. That hoarse, gritty voice still managed to bubble up from the depths of his mind. He had gotten better at pushing it back down, now that he bothered to try, and did his best to forget what that thing sounded like. He refastened his canteen and brought his scarf back up around his face, his hood over his head, and readjusted the goggles that sat snugly over his eyes. He scanned the western skies, beyond the horizon where his village lay hidden amidst the dunes, to what might lay beyond, in the perpetual expanse of that sun-baked desert.

He felt the voice bubble up again and clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking and popping as he did so. Massaging his palm, he cracked his wrists and thumbs, recently discovering that something about the pops alleviated his burden of that voice for a little while.

Grains of sand shifted under his feet, restless beneath him, anticipating his departure. His brother would be back at the village with the rest of their scouts soon, and he had promised his sister a decent time frame. He took a step and, to the naked and untrained eye, it looked as though the dune opened up under him and swallowed him whole, his body dispersing to the grains around him and traveling through the porous and shifting ground faster than anything else in the desert. Here, simply with such vast quantities at his disposal, he could cover the entire country, border to border, within a single day.

Temari needn't wait for him long.

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Sand scraped the heels of her palms as Sakura fell forward atop a dune. The shifting slopes had become too much for her shaken legs and she braced herself for the inevitable impact. More so than the stinging pain of hard grains pressed against her sunburned skin, she resented the heat. Nowhere was safe, nothing was immune to the sun, and all around her everything burned. Her skin, her blood, the ground beneath her, the very air that she tried to breathe. Nothing offered relief, however momentarily.

She whimpered out somewhat of a frustrated groan and sunk her hands deeper into the sand, trying to ignore the way it burned when she was on her knees like she was. Another pulse into the dune, sending more and more ripples across the sands. This would be her fourth. She did not yet know if they had been heard. Long ago she had given up trying to keep her hair from her face, and it stuck to her forehead and cheeks, plastered along her neck and shoulders. Her lips were cracking, her mouth was far too dry, her throat was hoarse and she could only manage shallow, ragged breaths of this hot, unforgivingly dry air.

Sakura stayed there for a moment, her arms shaking under her from the heat, her legs threatening to not stand again, and her stomach had recently started turning in very suspicious and unpleasant knots. She was hungry, very much so, and her thirst, her hunger, and the heat constantly baring down on her body, all caused her stomach to ache and twist in her gut, always one simple misstep from throwing up whatever liquid she had left in her belly.

She steadied her breathing, trying to settle her spinning insides, and did her best to stop the sound ringing in her ears. That had begun two hours ago, starting as a light droning noise that turned into a constant whooshing, like wind through the trees where there was none. She tried to ignore the white spots in her vision too, and the way that they always seemed to overtake her when she picked herself up from the ground. She had managed them so far, she could do it again.

Carefully making her way to her feet, she continued on her way, a hand placed on her forehead to check her temperature.

"One o' two," she groaned, rolling her head forward to once again cool the arteries in her neck. It drained her this time, made her falter in her steps, made keeping her eyes closed a little too tempting.

Sakura was on her knees again. Her legs had simply given out, and in this heat, no one would blame her. She had been walking for hours, at least…she thought it had been hours. She must have been miles from where she landed. But then again, the dunes all held a certain likeness to one another.

Looking on in front of her, to the same sight that had always been there, always just out of reach, she staggered to her feet once again and marched onward. She kept thoughts of water and food from clouding her head, she no longer dwelled on the possibility of who might stumble across her wandering the desert. Instead, she focused on counting. Count to sixty, start over. Count to sixty, start over. Every cycle was a minute survived, a minute closer to whatever was next. There was always something, after all, even when there looked to be nothing.

 _Forty-seven…forty-six…forty-five…_

Wait. When did she start counting backward? She shook her head, slapping her cheeks in hopes of refocusing herself.

 _Forty-seven…forty-eight…forty-nine... "Sakura…"_

She whipped around, so suddenly that her vision filled with stars and her balance quickly left her. She slipped to the side, sliding down a steep slope and burning her skin on the hot sand as she tried to right herself. She looked around, her heart racing, her hope soaring, and she searched frantically for whatever had called her name.

"Hello?" she called, her voice just a parched breath, a quiet wheeze past her lips. She hardly heard it herself. She smacked her lips, smoothing her tongue over the roof of her mouth, trying swallow some spit to coat her throat. She tried again. "Hel–"

She was cut short as her dry throat convulsed and snapped shut, unable to bare her voice after such thirst and neglect. She coughed, her lungs heaving with ragged breaths, her ribs still aching with the bruises of her impact. She looked around to the crests of the dunes, there was nothing that pointed toward life besides herself. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest, yet again sinking to her stomach. It had been in her mind, nothing more than a delusion, a simple auditory hallucination.

She looked behind her, to where she had sent her last pulse. Not yet a quarter mile back. She was getting slower, losing ground as the hours went on and, as she looked toward the west, she saw the sun race on without her. Still unaware as to whether or not her pulses had been in vain, Sakura was unsure if she would make it out of these sands alive. But, as she spied the empty plains of sand around her, void of motion and life, void of sound and any semblance of mercy, she knew one thing with absolute certainty.

She was still very much alone.

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	3. Part 3

I do not own NARUTO

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"Sir?"

Gaara turned his head toward Miller, the somewhat timid man that his sister had seen fit to promote. He didn't think so, but this wasn't his squad. Although, he had snuck a look at his test scores during one of his countless nights of unrest. Miller seemed bright enough, on paper at least.

He had stopped by Kankuro and the rest of their squad on his way back to the city, they were camped on the stone walls. He shared a brief exchange of information with his brother and spoke of further patrols and ventures of mapping the ever-shifting desert. With his brother ducked away in conversation with one of their subordinates, Gaara watched the horizon of sands in thought, wondering just what exactly had been out there, sending pulses into his desert, disrupting his grounds.

"Capitan Temari is waiting for you at the western gates."

Gaara nodded and turned toward the west, to the gates that loomed high above the city below. His brother came to stand beside him, folding his arms over his chest. He had taken his hood off and his short brown hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. It was a much more taxing return to the village for him and his team than it had been for Gaara.

"What's Temari want?" he asked, running a cloth over his face and quenching his thirst.

Gaara shrugged. "Foreign pulse picked up out west in the Basin."

"How far?" Kankuro asked, taking a bite of his bread roll to quiet his hunger.

"Far." It was his only response, but it got the job done.

Kankuro squinted his eyes to the west as if trying to force it to give up some secret. "Nomads?"

Gaara shook his head. "They stayed south for the drought."

"We don't have any scout teams out there do we?"

"Just Neko, she's the one who picked it up."

Kankuro sighed, deciding against offering his brother company out on the Basin. He was tired after his trek through the sands and in need of food and rest. Gaara could go for days, he didn't seem to have limits to survival out here, and company – more often than not – only slowed him down. "Well," he said, turning from his spot and heading for the tents that held the rest of their patrol squad. "Best not keep her waiting any longer."

His answer was the soft whisper of sand along the ground, the gentle tumble of grain over grain, and his little brother was gone. The only trace of him left was the wispy coils of sand shuffling along the ground, down the wall, and into the streets. He could cross the city in no time and would reach the other side in only a few minutes. Ready for whatever Temari needed of him.

…

"You sure about this?" Temari asked as she stood by her brother, her eyes cast to the endless landscape of golden sands. Not thirty minutes ago, Gaara had materialized by her at the western gates, giving her a fright like he always seemed to. He was just so quiet…in her own opinion, he needed to wear a bell.

Gaara surveyed the land, his expression never changing on the surface, but the gears were definitely turning in his head. He nodded, fully confident in his abilities to execute her orders to the best possible outcome.

"All right," she muttered, pulling a small parchment from her pocket. She handed it to him, watching as he studied the numbers on the paper. "All known pulses, she estimated the epicenters to her best educated guess. Said the last one came in almost three hours ago, nothing since."

"Direction?"

"Moving west, took a northern turn after the third pulse though."

"Parameters?"

"Keep your distance, radio me when you find it. If it's hostile, you know what to do."

Something purred deep in his mind, followed by an eagerness that bubbled up in his chest, and he noticed that Temari tried to play it off as if she hadn't just seen him crack his knuckles again. He took a breath, stuffing that rancid voice back to where it came from, and continued. It was a strange question that tumbled from his lips and he had only recently shaken the queer feeling that followed the words. "If it's friendly?"

Temari thought for a brief moment, weighing the odds in her head. "Just radio me." Gaara nodded. "You're free to go whenever, just give me a sec." She walked off and ducked under the flap into her tent. She emerged with his utility belt, secured with a fresh canteen, some dry food, and a few other necessities he had insisted he didn't need. His sister refused to hear it.

She held it up with a small smile on her lips and he took it without a word. He secured it around his hips, buckling it together and double checking the clips on all of his gear. He stuffed the little piece of parchment in his side pocket, the coordinates of the last pulse, the last beacon to ripple through the desert, and slipped his goggles back down over his eyes. With motions embedded so deep, he needn't even think, Gaara wrapped the light scarf around his face, bringing the hem up to rest above his nose and flipped up his hood, sending his short red hair to fall over the plastic lenses.

He looked out to the west again, the sand at his feet picking up with a slow circle around him, ready to suck him into the ground.

"Gaara?" Temari said after a moment. Gaara turned to her, his sapphire, almost azure eyes the only thing visible from beneath the mask of tan and beige. She struggled for her words, still uneasy about expressing care for him, and looked to the side. "Careful," was all she could manage.

He nodded, knowing she meant much more than she said, and touched his finger to the receiver still stuck in his ear. The radio hanging limply around his sister's neck crackled and she smiled, happy that he had demonstrated their open line of potential contact. She nodded to him, and he simply nodded back before the sand swallowed him, broke him apart, and spread him to the wind.

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

Sand tumbled down the sides of the large dune, and with it, so did Sakura. She stared at the sight before her, helpless, defeated, and finally without hope. The mounded landscape of desert dunes and towering pyramids of sand had broken and, as if out of a dream, she had finally spied and end to that tortuous up and down of the land. She had thought that beyond this dune, up to the crest and over the other side, she would have seen the walls of Suna. They didn't need to be close, just a small darkness against the never ending beige, just enough to say, _I'm here, don't give up, not yet._

But there was no such salvation awaiting her atop that towering dune, only further damnation. The sands began to level, spreading out from where she sat in a flat, arid, tundra of emptiness. So she had collapsed to her knees, dead tired and struggling for motivation, and settled to slide slowly down the dune, she guessed it about two stories until she stopped at the bottom. She looked down, to her hands and arms that were painted red by the sun, to her knees that were scrapped and raw from her slips and trips, and to her feet. She shook as she sat, her hands and knees vibrating as she tried to still them.

She leaned forward, to crawl on her hands and knees, and slid along the ground a few paces before her hazy mind realized something. She palmed the ground, smoothing her hands over it once, then again for good measure. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes locked in front of her, and she stared with hopeful trepidation and the loose grains below her.

It was hard.

Her dry lips cracked as they pulled into a shallow grin. She breathed once, again, and then again to settle herself. She planted her palms firmly against the surface, trying to imagine the solid floor of the desert under the thin layer of sand, and closed her eyes. She focused, pooling what energy she could into her hands and holding it there, a little trick she had learned to, in sense, amplify a given amount of chakra.

She tensed, her hands quivered and her fingers buzzed with energy, but it didn't expel from her hands. She tensed again, for longer this time, concentrating harder. Nothing. A whimper rose in her throat, quickly dying on her tongue, and she pulled her brow together. Her skin was dry and burnt, and she tried to ignore the way her sweat, what was left of it, stung harshly against her burns and her eyes. She used the back of her hand to smear it from her forehead, to peel the hair from her face, and was sure that by now her face was streaked with dirt.

Another series of breaths, another attempt to pool her energy, another pulse.

It was a tiny thing, hardly sending a visible shock wave more than twenty paces ahead. The others, even through the thick dunes of sand, had traveled much farther, had been stronger and more potent through the ground. She was nearing her limit, and if she kept going like she had been she would only run herself dry. Then, with no energy left, no reserves to draw from, she would really be in trouble.

She hung her head for a moment, trying to collect herself after the exertion, and was blinded as her vision filled with fuzzy patches of white and brilliant shimmering stars. Her head swam, spinning as she tried to focus, and that sound came back. That low droning – the blood in her ears, she knew – but it was so much louder than before. Almost deafening compared to the silent hills around her. She coughed again, doing her best to stifle it to save her scratchy throat, and sucked in a shallow breath. With a hand placed on her forehead once again, she inspected her temp.

"One o' one…" she breathed. Looking up, her gaze helplessly crestfallen, she stared at the cause of her misery. The sun, forever constant in its path across the skies, had already raced on without her and, as she fell ever farther behind, the glare died away and the wind held a cooling quality to it that had been absent before.

Sakura knew better than to rejoice for this momentary relief, though, for it only meant that the day was ending, that the evening was approaching, and nighttime was always right on its heels. The darkness would bring no comfort for her, the temperature would drop and she would be thrust from one extreme into another. Boiling heat to freezing cold in a matter of hours. She tried not to lose hope at the thought, but logic told her that if she didn't get help, or at least find some shelter, she wasn't going to last the night.

She didn't bother cooling her blood anymore, figuring she was out of the woods for heat stroke, and spent a minute picking herself up from the dry ground. A simple objective, but a tedious and frustrating task when alone amongst the sands. One foot in front of the other, that's what she kept telling herself. Just keep doing that and soon there would something in front of her. There would have to be. Her lower lip trembled, doubtful of her own thoughts, knowing they were just to keep her spirits up, to keep her body moving…she didn't really have any hope. Not anymore.

Wait…that wasn't entirely true…was it?

Hadn't she been trying for someone? To raise some attention…but, not just anyone's. She had been thinking of someone specific. She nearly tripped over her feet as she stumbled on in thought, sifting through the cloudy network of memory to the broken pieces of the day.

Yes, she had known someone…she _did_ know someone. What had his name been? She snagged her heel as she took a step, her knees gave out under her and she impacted the ground with a dull thud. She lay there for a moment, skin hot and stinging against the ground, shirt damp with sweat and sticking to her back, all that sand in her face…

Oh yes. That's right…Gaara.

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

The wind was picking up. Gaara stood atop a large dune, already far beyond the sight of the city and its towering walls, and his cloak whipped around him as the day continued to fade. There was a storm brewing, he could smell it. To Gaara, it was no figure of speech. The storm was still far to the east, still turning from bad winds to a full blown wall of sand, but given time, it would sweep across the desert as it picked up sand and speed. He expected it to hit the city after nightfall, and if the headwinds changed, it might be nasty one too. Somewhere around where he stood atop the dune, ever sturdy and faithful below him, the first pulse had been driven into the ground. At least, what they had assumed was the first. Had there been others before this?

He had expected nothing to be here, he just wanted to get a good idea of where the foreigner had been going, look for anything that could give him clues. But there _was_ something here. Deep in the ground, and so faint he had almost missed it, there was something…trembling. He sent his focus down, to the grains below his feet, and found the object of this disturbance. It was fuzzy, with just the last flutters of dying life. The pulse. The last of what vibrated through the ground.

So this is where they had been…he made a mental note to inform Temari of Niko's very accurate educated guess. It had been practically right below his feet.

Gaara grimaced, feeling all too well as the beast in his head slithered around to peer out of its cage. Whatever was in the ground had stirred the demon and he tried to ignore it as he set his eyes on the west. He had a faint idea of what this chakra signature consisted of and was confident that if he set out into the sands he would come across the next pulse site. He set out, his body breaking down to just a ripple across the dunes, whipping up with the wind and carrying on into the distance.

Out here, in the endless sea of sand and rock, distance did not mean the same thing to Gaara as it meant to other people. Ten miles for him was nothing more than a few moments of focus. To most others, it meant radio contact, water reserves, predetermined routes, and it was never smart to travel alone. But Gaara carried on as naturally as could be, as if it were more effortless for him than breathing itself. In this void, filled with jumbled bits and pieces of himself, he settled his mind to the desert, traveling west by the path of the sun, and searched for next faint buzzing of the footprints of foreign life.

…

That voice came back. It got to him more when his senses were, quite literally, cast to the wind. Grinding against his skull, raking its infernal claws on his very thoughts, it had forced him to stop. He had been thrown from his travel, stumbling a step as he rematerialized. He cursed himself, his thoughts overcome with that deep cackle that echoed in his mind. He had managed more control over his sand recently, his attacks and his defenses becoming sharper, quicker, and more precise. He had fought his beast for control and the more he pushed it down the more influence he had over his abilities. But here he was, ripped from his transport, and thrown into the physical world.

But still, no matter how annoyed, he knew that he had been stopped here for a reason. He searched for something reminiscent of that strange signature he had come across. Something in the distance to his right caught his attention, more north than he had been expecting. It was like the sudden shift in atmospheric pressure before a storm, and he followed it. He stopped over the spot, studying the dying signature, and concluded that it had been weaker than the previous one. Whoever had left these prints was getting weaker as well.

That _thing_ groaned out a cackle again.

Gaara squeezed his thumbs, only one of them popped this time.

…

Over the last ten miles, Gaara had concluded that whoever was out here was definitely lost.

He had always expected so but had also reserved the possibility of a hostile encounter, if there could be such a thing to him out here. The sparse and inconsistent trail that he followed, however little breadcrumbs he was actually given, had curved northwest, away from the city and into nomadic territory. He considered what Niko had first relayed to Temari; a foreign entity. Someone so inexperienced would have no troubles getting lost in the desert, the Basin especially. To the untrained eye there was no definitive difference between much of the deserts that made up the wind country, but to the natives of the desert, the Basin was indeed featureless.

But that irked him a little. It was always possible to foreigners to lose their way, yes, but how did they manage to get this far in the first place? And that wasn't all that irked him. He kept hearing that low rumble, that purring of the monster in his head, and it seemed to echo off the dunes like it came from all around him. It was getting antsy, he could tell. His breathing picked up when it wasn't necessary, his heart would flutter, sending cold blood brimming with adrenaline through his veins. It would be unexpected and always threw him for a moment. Though he tried his best to ignore it, the only thing he really _could_ do, he couldn't help but have an idea as to where this sudden interest stemmed from.

Ever since he had stopped over that first pulse something had felt off. No, not off… _familiar_.

Yes, that was it. And the beast knew it too. Somewhere, at some point in his life, he had come across this energy before. Gaara was a man of many travels, of course, he had seen the forest lands of Konoha, but only after concurring the lands of mountains and rain forests, the deserts and tundra country. He had crossed many people in his days, silenced many lives and left many, _many_ bad impressions.

He pushed his goggles up his face, taking a moment to rub his eyes. _Great_. He sighed, yet again ignoring the way that voice tried to persuade him to do things he wanted to leave behind him.

Gaara set out again, his eyes trained on a course promised to appease his curiosity. He kept his mind busy while he traveled, his thoughts the only things that could block that voice at times like this. He needed to locate this lost wanderer, they had been in the dry sands for hours, sending pulses into the ground. Beacons. This thought caused another grimace. He was now convinced that they had been calling for help. Once he located the target he would radio his sister, sure that he would still be within range, and wait for further instructions. More than likely, she would-

 _Quiet!_

Within a moment he was stopped, his eyes fixed ahead of him but his attention was to the ground. At first, he thought it nothing, but the way the beast bristled in his mind told him he had been wrong. Something had caught its attention and Gaara strained his senses to hone in on the disturbance. There is was again, that strange pressure that felt like it weighed down on his shoulders. He focused on it, curious at the way it seemed almost static this time, as if _alive_. He squared his feet on the ground, listening to what the grains at his feet had to tell him.

They shook, vibrated…pulsed.


	4. Part 4

I do not own NARUTO

* * *

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

Gaara was stopped half a mile back and he hadn't bothered to try and conceal his presence. He hardly expected his target to have the attention span to even notice him after an afternoon under the blistering sun. He also needn't get any closer to clearly see who it was that had been stranded in his desert, sending beacons into his sands. After all, he had been plagued by that color for the last few months.

 _Pink_.

There were nights that, even more so than Naruto's bewildering words, the look in her eyes had kept him from a decent meditation. It was a badgering annoyance, something that stupefied and perplexed him to no end. She had been so weak, so underwhelming and overlookable and then, god help him, she had stared him down with nothing more than a knife and…and that _look_. It was something the demon found entertaining to use against him, to toy him with. She had reminded him of someone…but, before that betrayal.

He grimaced, his lips thinning into a hard line and stretching creases down his face. Not that one could tell, he still had his scarf over his face and his goggles over his eyes. His hood had been blown back by the wind and sand began to stir at his feet. Not of his own accord. He had picked up speed during his pursuit, sensing the impending storm as it swept across the land, and was actually surprised at how far she had managed to get. She should have collapsed miles ago. But she had continually picked herself up and kept going, albeit the wrong direction, but kept going nevertheless.

Gaara took a breath, bringing up a hand to press the button on his radio.

 _No._

He stopped, a little unnerved at how that voice could sound like it came from outside of his head. It always had a strange response from him, his heart sped up, he could feel his eyes focus, and his hearing sharpen. Lately, it only made him feel even more isolated from those around him. But he felt something beneath his feet as he stood there, his eyes fixed on that fallen figure amidst the shifting sands. So soft, helpless, like the flutter of butterfly wings or the desperate first flight of chick, it was a heartbeat through the sand. She was alive.

Gaara nearly groaned, a sickening feeling twisting in his gut as the beast in his head continued to slither through his thoughts. He still remembered that day he nearly crushed her to death, doubtful that he'd ever forget it. He had felt particularly bad about that occasion, more so than the others he had buried. After all, their deaths had been quick, if not instantaneous it took only mere moments. But he had used her to toy with her team, it had been slow, so slow he had never succeeded.

 _Finish it._

"No," he mumbled to the wind, though his eyes glared at the figure out fallen in the shuffling grains of sand.

There was a sound that echoed through his mind, almost like a hiss and a roar. He rubbed his temples, trying to relax the strain in his neck that that sound always gave him. Gaara had begun saying no to the demon in his head, denying it the blood and carnage it hungered for, and not getting its way was not boding well for it. So it screeched and roared and tried to rile him, tried to make him angry, to get him to slip. Just for that one moment, that's all the time that creature would need. But no, Gaara may have only been human, though the notion was still a strange one, but he had fortitude, valor, and tenacity. For once, he would turn them on his demon.

Gaara pulled his scarf from over his face and tried again to press the button on his radio and was blessed with a moment of silence from the beast. It clicked, crackled, and he spoke. "Temari, copy."

Another moment later and it crackled again, his sister's voice chiming in through the static. It was fuzzy, the signal straining over the vast distance between them, but it was clear enough to hear the familiarity in her voice, and that she had apparently been enjoying an early dinner. "Copy, Gaara. Go for Temari."

"I've located the source of the pulse."

The click indicated the receiver tuning into his sister's frequency, the pause indicated her clear hesitation to obtain her long awaited answer. "And?"

Gaara paused, his words falling short on his tongue. He did indeed remember this girl, he had nearly killed her after all, but…what had her name been again? He cursed himself. How many nights had he been painfully without rest because of the feeling her memory would bring him? Too many to count. Vulnerability. That's what it had been, and that's why he had hated it so much. He thought he had long since smothered those feelings and buried them deep under his defenses of animosity and cynicism. But that look in her eyes, for those split nanoseconds that they had faced each other, it had broken something in him. And now he couldn't even recall her damn name.

The radio crackled again. "Gaara? What is it? Copy." Her voice held an edge of concern, a sliver of worry projected through the waves that carried it.

"Lost traveler, alone."

"Identification?"

"Don't need it. It's Naruto's teammate. The girl."

The line went dead and no answer was given for a few moments. Gaara figured that, with the distance between them and the amount of static on the line, Temari had figured she misheard him. Another crackle at his ear and Temari's voice came through again. "You mean…Naruto, the fox kid?"

"Affirmative."

"And…" The line didn't cut out, but she paused, and Gaara could clearly picture her brow scrunched over her deep blue eyes in doubtful thought. "The girl…with pink hair, right?"

He groaned, not at all entertained by this little back and forth. "Yes," he growled out, with a little more bite than he intended but, even he was not immune to the effects of the sun.

"Sakura's out there?" she gasped, her voice clearly carrying the shock that must have been splattered across her sun-kissed face.

There was a barely audible sigh from Gaara as his sister spoke through the radio. Ah, yes, that was it. Sakura. How could he have forgotten? It was just as flowery as her appearance. What with that head of soft pink hair, pale and pastel, the color of cherry blossoms, eyes like vibrant jade with flecks of shining emerald, and a name to solidify her as a true native of the forest. He'd only glimpsed her a few times and paid attention even fewer, but an appearance like that wasn't one that was soon forgotten. Of course…Sakura. He wouldn't forget again.

"What the hell is Sakura doing out in the Basin?" Temari demanded. It wasn't a demand toward himself, he knew better than to imagine such things from his sister, but more so a demand of the very air itself. As if it could offer up some answer for her.

"I tracked her course from the first pulse site. Nothing dropped, no other tracks. She's on her own with no supplies, I doubt she ever had any to begin with." The demon purred, it loved the weak and the helpless. Sakura's misery only made it swell with pleasure.

"No other tracks, nothing from her team? What about signatures?"

"Negative."

There was a moment's pause over the radio, and when the line clicked again he could hear just the last of her brief conversation with someone else on her end. Their voice was far too quiet and distorted to distinguish, but it sounded like they affirmed some sort of order. "All right, first thing's first. Get her back here, ASAP. I've got Achi on his way to the hospital to get a room cleared for her. I'll be there waiting for you."

"Copy that," he affirmed, his voice solid and sure as he spoke. It was more so in response to the affront on his senses caused by his demon. He was none too pleased with his host's plans for the girl. "ETA thirty minutes."

"Copy, Temari out."

The line went dead and Gaara turned off the receiver in his ear, intent on not using the annoying little device again. He paused for a moment before proceeding, though, clenching his fists at his sides and staring with an unbroken focus on that fallen woman in the distance. He could still feel her heartbeat through the sands and he knew he still had time before she would risk death out here. It fluttered through the grains, a little vibration of life that was unknown to most everyone else in his country. It took many years with a natural gift to hone the skills necessary for this kind of detection, but – as an extension of himself – the sand willingly gave up all its secrets to him.

There was a strange moment of relief that he felt, knowing now with certainty that he _hadn't_ killed her all those months ago. But his relief helped him none in his current predicament, it would not walk over to her for him, or speak to her for him, or even…no, he couldn't think of that, not now. It would only cloud his mind, and he was already tired and nearing his limit with social necessities. Like many other times before, he pushed that thought from his head. Though physically it never left him worse for wear, it had a tendency to bother him and put him on edge, the uncertainty of it all just too much to contemplate without distraction.

 _End it._

Tempting. But no, it wasn't who he wanted to be anymore. He had been shown a different way and it beaconed him with a pull more intense than that eternal darkness had. The easy way, that's what it had been, ending all that opposed him and defied him. The ways of tolerance and acceptance were harder for him to learn, affection and love were still alien notions to him, but then again, he had always liked a challenge. Gaara lifted a fist to his chin and forced it to the side, an audible pop coming from his neck. Once one way, then again the other, and he was offered some quiet.

He took a breath, focusing his attention much like he did for his meditation, and slowed his heart rate, lowering his blood pressure and calming his agitation. With a step forward he began to disintegrate down to the shallow dunes below him. Quickly becoming little more than a trail slithering along the ground, he made quick work of closing the distance between himself and his targ–

No, between himself and _Sakura_.

He rose from the sand a few paces back, behind her, and slowly, quietly, gathered to stand as he stared down on her. His lips thinned into a scowl. He could see her better now that he stood closer, and it was very evident that someone should have come for her sooner. She was burnt, bad, and from the looks of her knees and forearms – what he could see of them – she had been exhausted and debilitated for a while. They were scrapped and raw from a constant barrage of trips and falls against the grainy ground. Her hair was cast to the ground around her head, windblown and becoming overcome with sand as it blew around her, and it stuck in snarled clumps to her face and neck. Her shirt stuck to her back, her skin was streaked with dirt and her lips were cracked and dry with dehydration.

He took a step towards her, taking in her attire as he did so. She wore her sandals and capris, a sleeveless tunic vest, and quite literally, nothing more. She had been totally exposed to the elements, nothing to help her out in the arid, unrelenting desert. He could hear her breathing now too, it was low, ragged, and it seeped past her lips as a sickly wheeze. A little unsure at how to proceed, he knelt down next to her, contemplating just teleporting them both to a hospital without so much as a word, but that risked her panicking during the transport, or worse – at the hospital. That would not bode well for him.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly uncomfortably dry, and reached out a hand. He hesitated a moment, his fingers hovering just above her shoulder, and clenched his other hand into a fist. A few knuckles cracked and gave him some reprieve from that nagging in the back of his head. He placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to be mindful of the sunburn, and…she was shaking. How had he missed that?

"Sakura?" He swallowed and looked to the side. Saying her name felt wrong, like he didn't deserve to be the one to retrieve her, like he didn't have what it took to…to care.

She didn't respond right away, her face turned to the sand as it blew up in piles against her, but he was trained to notice the little things, like the way that her breathing slowed at the sound of his voice. She made a noise then, something quiet and barely audible, and he figured that, had her voice not given out hours ago, she would have been trying to say something to him.

"Sakura," he tried again.

Her head turned, her shoulder flinched away in a quick recoil from his touch, and tried to push herself up. She was shaking more visibly now, her arms wobbling under her as she tried to support herself. She slid to her knees and brought up a hand to wipe the hair from her face.

Gaara didn't want to look at her, not really sure what seeing those eyes of hers would do to him. They had haunted him after all, reminded him of something he had buried so deep…too deep, and that echo he had seen in her eyes only shook him where he was normally sturdy. But that wasn't her fault, if anything it was his own, and he willed himself to keep composure and he had found her staring at him in a way that, in a word, stupefied him.

Her eyes were wide, tired and spent, but _alive_. It was like he could read her hesitation like a book. So reluctant, so apprehensive, like she wasn't sure if he was real or just an illusion. Perhaps just one of many she had believed before. The desert did those kinds of things to people. Her lips trembled and she was clearly unsure about something. She parted her dry lips, another one of those strange noises etching past her throat, and she suddenly coughed. She doubled over, holding her throat and desperately trying to gain control over her lungs. Gaara quickly unhooked his canteen from his belt and held it in front of her. With a hand tightly clasped over her mouth, chest heaving with desperate breaths, she eyed the canteen. He could see the recognition flicker through her eyes and her hands shot out to snatch it from him.

She grabbed the canteen, her hands shaking and her fingers trembling as she tore open the cap. It seemed that she didn't even see him anymore, like he had just vanished and all that mattered was that canteen. She gasped, a sort of little cry of relief as she heard the water sloshing around the container, and threw the bottle to her lips. It wasn't cool, it was rather warm from being in an enclosed container, but it was water, and sweet, sweet relief. It spilled over her lips and chin and soaked into her tunic as she greedily gulped the liquid. Her stomach churned in anger at the sudden onslaught of liquid after having so little, but she pushed through it, intent on quenching her long suffered thirst.

It was Gaara that stopped her. He grabbed the bottle, gently – but with an authoritative force – taking it from her and steadying her as she seemed to blindly follow after it. "Easy," he muttered, foiling another attempted grab for his canteen. "Easy. Not so fast."

She gasped, her throat free from its dehydrated torment, and her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. She looked up at him again then, and – for a moment at least – he was quite literally stunned. She had that fire back in her eyes, that attitude he had always seen her give Naruto but had never truly appreciated, and here it was again, pointed at _him_. Her brow scrunched together and she took a moment to wipe the water from her chin, never breaking eye contact with him.

"Wha–" Another cough. "What took you so long?"

What took… _him_ so long? He swallowed, unsure of what to make of her question. A lot of things, he supposed, would be a good answer. The fact that she was out in the middle of nowhere was one, the fact that she had only traveled farther from their scouts was another, and the fact that she was even in his country at all was, in his opinion, the most pressing. She shouldn't have been out here, no one should have, so of course it would have taken a while. He was tempted to demand answers to all of his brimming questions, but his sister had been right in her assumption of Sakura's condition; she needed a hospital.

"Come with me."

He tried to make it seem like he was confident when he reached for her, but he figured that any waver in his façade would be lost on her. He lifted her arm, persuading her to stand, and it was a tedious few moments until she stood on shaken legs. She vaguely reminded him of a newborn gazelle, weak and clumsy with legs like wobbly stilts.

There was a moment when she tried to stand on her own, head bowed and eyes closed in concentration. Her head flushed, rushing as she stood and filling her eyes with pressure and stars, and she tried to blink away the blindness. She steadied herself, knees trembling beneath her, and took a moment to grimace at the sickly sloshing of the water in her gut.

"Come on," he said again, being mindful of her disorientation, and tried to guide her toward the direction of Suna.

"No," she rasped, something about her face suddenly becoming defeated. "No, I can't…anymore," she said, her voice barely a whisper. At her words, it was as though her legs decided that they could, indeed, not go on any longer.

He caught her before she could fall, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her arm over his shoulder. He noticed then how light she was, though not truly since he had to support her dead weight, but her obvious exhaustion and the way she trembled just made her seem…frail. He could have laughed at himself really, because she was proving to be anything but _frail_. Sakura sighed, the blissful relief of her weight off her feet was clear on her face, and – wait, she hadn't just rested her head against him…had she? No. No, it had been his goggles that she had thumped her forehead against, not truly _him_.

"You don't need to walk anymore," Gaara said, taking notice of the way she seemed to whimper at his statement, as if it had been the one thing she had longed to hear since she was cast to the sands.

"I…I'm so tired…" she breathed, her voice straining in her throat as if she were about to her break.

He nodded, understanding the legitimacy of her statement, and secured his hold on her. "It won't be long."

She continued to mumble, just noises and different bits and pieces of words that didn't seem to go together, and looked around in bewilderment as the sand beneath her feet shifted and stirred. It lifted from the ground, brushing against her ankles and up her legs as it floated with an almost static energy. She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, or her head was only flushing with dizziness again, but it seemed as though the horizon was being swallowed up by blotches of darkness. Wobbling, distorted, but they looked like they were getting bigger.

She sucked in a breath, realizing what he was doing, and watched in trepidation as the horizon and golden sands began to fall away.

He noticed the way she took on a look of apprehension, a moment of clear hesitation, and he staved off the inevitable – the disintegration of the physical body as one was thrown to the elements and his bidding – and took a moment to turn to her.

"Sakura," he said. She tilted her head toward the sound of her name. "Don't let go."

His response was the arm around his neck tightening in a locked grip, the muscles pulling tight, and her other hand grabbing the leather straps across the chest of his field clothes. He could feel her shake as she tensed, her eyes locked on the world that slowly dissolved to black around them.

"What took you so long?"

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	5. Part 5

I do not own NARUTO

* * *

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A lot of things happened once Gaara successfully transported Sakura to the hospital.

It had been a long distance to cover and he tried to hurry as best he could with another person in tow. He had made good time getting her to the city, now that he was growing a little more creative with his tricks since giving up senseless slaughter as a pass time. There were a few places throughout the city that had certain markers he had placed, little beacons that pulsed and called out to him from the scattered darkness of becoming one with the sand, which allowed him to easily – and in some cases more efficiently – locate and arrive at his destination. His home was the most frequented of these spots, along with some various spots throughout the deserts of his country. They were like little stepping stones across the sands, marked and precise in their location, like his own little road map. But he decided to forgo telling his siblings about the ones out there, preferring to keep it to himself for a while longer.

Another such marker was at the hospital, or…more so in the middle of the front lobby. The gust of sand had burst through the doors, slithering haphazardly along the ground and underfoot of hospital staff and patients. It swirled in the lobby, which had quickly cleared of people, and had raised the attention of Temari as she spoke with her brother. Both she and Kankuro turned toward the commotion and made their way down the short hall to the lobby. The sand dispersed to reveal their younger brother, still obviously windblown from the stirring desert, with the Konoha girl hanging limply from his shoulder. Temari rushed to his side, calling for the nurse, and freed Gaara of her weight.

Sakura, still dazed and gathering her surroundings, slipped from Gaara's support and was nearly too much for Temari who hadn't been expecting such dead weight from her. Another nurse came to her aid and helped support Sakura while onlookers craned their necks to see the source of such a disturbance.

She started to whimper again, with her head carelessly flopped to the side resting on Temari's shoulder, only this time it sounded more…hopeless? No, that couldn't have been it. She was safe now, with people rushing to care for her, to make her well again. Perhaps it was the sheer relief of it all, to feel the cool air of the building, to hear the voices of other people, to just be _inside_.

"Jesus," Temari breathed, easing Sakura into a sense of balance. She too had noticed her shaking, her sunburn, her obvious dehydration, and fatigue. It was only after taking in her condition that she truly noticed Sakura's ill-equipped attire. She looked to Gaara, meeting his gaze with bewilderment.

He shook his head and pulled his goggles from his face to rest around his neck. "She's completely spent," he said, his eyes flickering to Sakura as she sighed and panted and gasped at his sister's side. So helpless, even more so than she had been under his own misguided attempt at her life.

Temari eyed the nurse holding up Sakura by her other arm. There was clear worry and urgency in the woman's eyes, and Temari followed her lead with alacrity. The nurse called down to the hall to the room waiting for Sakura. "I need ice packs!" she shouted. "Temperature is one point seven and rising. Get a saline drip ready for her and get me something to treat her burns!"

They disappeared down the hall, ducking into a room with Sakura quite literally dragging her feet behind them. Some more people rushed in after them, nurses with clear bags of fluids with a mess of plastic tubing attached, carrying armfuls of ice packs, and soon the door shut loudly behind them. Gaara let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

The others in the hospital, just there for checkups or prescriptions, began to go back to their own devices. They murmured and gave fleeting glances between the shut door down the hall and Gaara as he stood rigid in the middle of the lobby. He seemed to pay them no mind, though Gaara was never fully unaware of those looks that always got cast his way. Oh well, nothing to be done about it and, considering the situation at hand, he figured it couldn't be helped.

"She looks rough," Kankuro commented as he made his way over. He stopped by his brother's side and looked down the hall to the closed room. There were muffled voices on the other side of the door, quiet and unintelligible, and they could see the moving shadows of the medical team under the door as they shuffled around each other in the room.

"She made it pretty far," Gaara said after a moment, his voice holding the usual monotone and completely uninterested drawl he normally spoke in.

Kankuro didn't buy it. He turned to his little brother, a little more confident after the few months of patrols spent with him and the general uplift in his otherwise…well, demonic personality. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared him down. Gaara had dubbed it the 'Big Brother' look. "What happened out there?" he asked, or more so challenged.

Gaara scowled slightly, his brow pulling together over his eyes at his brother's words. He had begun doing that recently and Gaara wasn't very happy about it. He would get answers by asking as if he were challenging his little brother. A challenge of 'face me and fess up', or 'don't and live with yourself after running'. The latter was not an option. Gaara never ran. "Nothing."

Damn.

Kankuro pulled his brows together in scrutiny as he eyed his brother. "Nothing, huh?" Gaara nodded. "All right," he said, his voice light as he brushed off the subject. Except for that voice meant that their discussion wasn't over. Not nearly. Gaara had to stifle his groan of exhaustion. "Anyway, like I was just saying to Temari, I've got word sent out to Konoha. I radioed in with one of the stations at the border before the storm picked up so they could send the letter from there, figured the faster it traveled the better. I mean, who really knows how long she's been gone?"

Gaara nodded again though he knew it hadn't been very long, at least not her time spent in the desert, she wouldn't have lasted a night out there the way she was. Someone had put her out there, he was sure of it. "She went missing today, as far as I can tell. No one just wanders all the way out to the basin from the forest before deciding to send for help."

Kankuro shrugged. "I guess. We'll only know for sure when she's in a better condition to talk about it."

"Hm."

"What will you do, Gaara?"

Gaara glanced behind him to the doors of the hospital, out past them and back to the desert he had just pulled Sakura from. "I'm going back out there."

"What for?" his brother asked. "You got her, job done. You should relax, man."

"I need to see if I missed anything. There's got to be something."

Kankuro snorted a chuckle. "Jeez, Gaara, you never stop do you?" Gaara merely shrugged. "If that's the case just be careful. I know you know all about the storm that's coming. Just make sure I don't end up having to come look for _you_ after all this."

Gaara nodded, pulling up his goggles back over his eyes. He pulled his scarf up over his face and flipped the hood of his cloak up before turning slightly to Kankuro. "It's picking up a lot of static, a good signal won't carry out west once it passes over so don't bother radioing for me. Tell Temari I'll be back when I'm done."

"Any idea when that would be?" Kankuro asked as the sand settled on the floor started to vibrate and levitate off the ground around Gaara's feet. His response was a shake of the head and a shrug. "All right, but if she's got a problem then _you_ get to deal with her when you get back."

From under his scarf, Gaara let a small grin cross his face as he nodded to his brother. Temari was a strong headed woman with a fierce affiliation to a sense of independence. She wasn't easily coerced and was not one to try and intimidate, but she had a clear breaking point for the toughness she carried and it seemed that her brothers' safety had always been that breaking point. It…warmed him. Even when she yelled.

"Deal."

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None of the nurses were truly prepared for the way that Lady Chiyo had unexpectedly burst through the door of the exam room. She had, much like she always did, taken immediate command of the situation. Her orders were barked practically before she was even through the door and in a voice that was, very understandably, surprising to hear from the elderly woman. Temari made way for her as she made a B-line to the stiff bed that Sakura had been placed on. She was sweating, her brow covered in dirt and hair, and her eyes were clenched shut against the protest of her body. She was leaned back on the bed with ice packs on either side of her throat and under her arms in an attempt to quickly drop her temperature to a safe range. She clenched the biggest of the packs between her thighs and her knees shook as she did so.

"Sakura," Chiyo spoke in a quiet voice, a steadying hand placed on her shoulder. She looked over at her, unable to speak or just too tired to, and waited for her to continue. "I am Chiyo, I will be overseeing your recovery. You are safe now." Sakura parted her lips but nothing came through them, so she simply nodded.

Chiyo, satisfied with her ready compliance, began a quick examination of her condition. Under the dirt and the sunburn was where her true focus lied, to the blood that ran too hot through her veins, to where her muscles quaked and shook with the strain of being overworked. But she was not at all deterred by this when gauging the girl's limit of strength. Chiyo was seasoned, very experienced, and had been in many battles where foreigners had come to their sands and tried to stake claim to them, to kill their soldiers and take their settlements and outposts. Most of them made the mistake of greatly underestimating the land on which they intended to fight. In the end, the unpredictable dunes and raging tempests of storms had done most of the killing for them.

But Sakura had survived. Out there, in the barren wasteland of the Basin. Even in Suna, with the shade of buildings and shops always just a few steps away, there had been a warning issued about the weather. A heat wave, with little to no cross wind throughout the hottest parts of the day. Many in the city had come in to the hospital and various clinics with symptoms of heat stroke and dehydration, and the fact that this girl – this inexperienced native of the much more forgiving forest climate – had survived on her own out there was all Chiyo needed to understand her strength and fortitude. But she was still curious as to what exactly Sakura had done to keep herself from collapsing hours ago.

"Please…" Sakura whispered, her head lolling over to the side as she looked desperately to Chiyo. "Please, I just need…water," she breathed as she finished, the end of her word coming as a pleading sigh. Chiyo nodded, nearing the end of her quick pass over Sakura's body. She would comply with her request, but only after confirming that there was no damage done to the vulnerable flesh of her organs from the extreme heat. Nothing, not even in the brain. To say she was impressed would have been a gross understatement.

"Water!" she called out to the nurse who was taking notes for Chiyo on Sakura's condition. She nodded curtly and left for a bottle from the cooler in the lobby, intent on having it fresh and crisp for the poor girl.

The nurse to the other side of the bed had set up the saline drip and was getting the needle for Sakura's IV ready. "Hold out your arm and make a tight fist for me," she asked, her voice patient and gentle as Sakura straightened her right arm. She clenched her fist as best she could but it only made her shake more. "It's okay," the nurse said, clearly noting Sakura's frustration as she struggled to still herself. "I've got it, just keep that fist tight." Sakura listened dutifully as the nurse bent down to steady her arm with a firm grip.

The needle easily slid into her tensed and raised vein and she nearly sighed with relief, knowing that life-giving hydration was about to come next. The saline was cold as it entered her bloodstream and she could feel the chill creep up her arm and over her shoulder. She felt it pass through her chest and through the arteries in her neck, giving her a sense of cool that started from the inside out; just what she needed.

Chiyo studied her, taking a moment to remove the ice packs from around her neck, and was satisfied to see a glass of water placed at the counter near the bed and Sakura with a needle in her arm, giving her the water her body so desperately needed. Chiyo nodded to herself and turned to Temari. She straightened instantly before giving a low bow of respect to the esteemed elder.

"Lady Chiyo," she greeted from her bow before straightening again. "Is she going to be all right?"

Chiyo nodded, her eyes dropping to the floor in thought. "Yes," she mumbled through her thin lips. "I believe she will." Temari breathed a sigh of relief. "Has Kankuro sent word to the Leaf?"

Temari nodded, her eyes molding over to stern and strictly professional once again. "Yes, he sent it out to the border so they could get a messenger hawk in the air to avoid the storm. I trust it will reach Konoha by early tomorrow, before dawn." She watched as Chiyo nodded, her eyes filled with thought and focus, yet none of it really placed on the captain in front of her, and Temari didn't miss the flicker of relief that passed over the old woman's face. "What is it, Lady Chiyo? Why the interest?"

"I was hoping she wasn't who I thought she was." Her voice was quiet, with a low grumble to it from her old age, and Temari had a hard time picking it out from the chatter of the nurses behind them.

But this confused Temari, very much so, and instead of asking the obvious, she simply waited with a perplexed look in her blue eyes for Chiyo to respond.

Without a word she reached into the inside pocket of her robe and pulled out a small folder full of worn parchment. She handed it to Temari and watched her face as she opened the folder and scanned over the words. It was a simple communications report that had been sent to them by the Leaf, dated back a few months ago. Temari quickly skimmed the document, nothing really jumping off the page at her. It was the usual upkeep of communication with allied lands. Information of troop movement and scouting routes, names of team captains and the generals they answered to, and little bits and pieces of political updates like the new Hokage's–

Wait.

She did a double take on the third page, her eyes falling back to Sakura as the nurses fussed over her. She looked back to Chiyo then and followed her lead when she excused them from the room.

"You understand now?" Chiyo asked, taking the folder back from her and looking for herself at the words that had caught Temari by surprise. And, of course, the picture that went with them.

"Since when?" she asked, her eyes continuing to flicker the now closed door behind them.

"Very recently, at least at the time of this contact," Chiyo answered. Her eyes lifted from the pages in her hand, her expression flattening into a seriousness that was well understood and best obeyed. "No one goes in that room without direct clearance from myself or you. No one treats her with anything that _I_ have not approved, and do your best to keep this a secret."

"Is it," Temari began, her brow scrunching together in bewilderment as she tried to place Sakura, the girl she had seen during the Chunine Exams, to the one lying on the bed in the other room. Or, even more puzzling, to the one she had read about in that folder. "Is it so –"

"Yes," Chiyo answered, her voice determined and her murky eyes were hard as stone. "Yes, it is. The only way she leaves the country is without as much as a scratch on her. I tremble to think of what the Hokage would do knowing her beloved apprentice was caused physical harm while in our lands."

Temari nodded in understanding. The more and more ambassadors for Suna that went to the Leaf for political meetings, the more stories of the new Hokage that came back with them. She shared the elder's opinion. It was better to not invoke the wrath of the…well, slug queen. "I'll stay with her. Make sure she's got everything she needs."

Chiyo nodded and turned to walk down the hallway. "I will be back after she's had time to build her strength, then we will speak with her of what happened out there."

Temari turned back to the door and took a breath before opening it. This had become complicated. What was supposed to be an anticlimactic scouting run along the city perimeter had turned into a search and rescue, which turned out to be someone she had known, who – in turn – happened to be very important to a certain someone in very high places.

Pushing open the door, she found the nurses in the room to be a little more at ease, with Sakura reclined on the bed and starting to breathe a little more evenly. She had a heart monitor clasped around her finger, the IV steadily dripping saline into her vein, and was surrounded by beeps and clicks of the machines that kept track of her vitals. She was still sunburned, still dirty, but she was still too weak to get her cleaned. It would be like handling a ragdoll and Temari guessed she wouldn't appreciate it that much. She was a soldier, after all, a little dirt never hurt her. Even so, Temari made a mental note to pick up some spare clothes for her, something more suited to the climate but that conformed to her personal tastes. It would be a nice thing to wake up to when she was rested enough.

She pulled up a chair by the bed as Sakura mumbled to the nurses as they inspected everything to make sure all was set and in order. They had also given her a sedative, nothing too potent, just enough to give her weariness the edge it needed to tip her over into a long desired sleep. She would sit here until Sakura woke, busying herself with the reports and paperwork that came with running one's own scouting team and sticking to her promise to keep watch over the foreign girl. To make sure that nothing came to hurt her in the land that had once tried to overthrow her own.

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

The sedative had left her groggy, fuzzy, but the sleep it induced was just what she had needed. And she doubted she would ever take air conditioning for granted again. The IV had been taken out from her arm, as her fluid levels had returned to normal, her vitals had held a good rate for the duration of her slumber. So she sat under the thin woven throw on the stiff hospital bed, as a woman free from tubes and needles and beeping machines. She hadn't expected Temari to be there, and even though their last meeting wasn't a good one, she was still grateful for the familiar face when she woke up. It was a little startling at first, waking up in a hospital room with the proof of her life beeping steadily at her side. At least, it had been steady.

She had garnered Temari's attention by panicking a little when she first woke, forgetting for a moment where she was, and sending her heart rate climbing quickly and the machines beeping and buzzing in a sudden frenzy. The machine tripped a sensor in the lobby, telling them a patient was in trouble, and a nurse had quickly rushed the door, bursting through it with a look of urgency. Temari was already on her feet when she came in the room, and she had hovered close to Sakura, just one hand rested against her arm, and spoke in a quiet voice that offered calm and clarity should she choose to listen to it.

The nurse quickly quieted the machines and took the heart rate sensor from Sakura's finger, the line of her heartbeat, once jumping with life, now ran flat as the power left the machine. It was quiet in the room again, and Sakura tried to hastily take in her surroundings.

"It's okay," Temari said, her voice hushed just between them. "You're all right."

"Suna?" Sakura breathed, her eyes darting over the familiar features of the woman that calmed her. Temari nodded. "Oh," she sighed, her eyes falling to her legs under the thin blanket she'd been given. "Good." She let her head fall, a little dizzy after trying to swiftly shake the effects of the sedative.

"Just relax, don't push yourself too much. You were in pretty bad shape when you got here."

Sakura nodded, the memories of her time under that blistering sun had begun to poke through the haze, and she remembered how terrible she had felt, figuring she couldn't have _looked_ much better. Her eyes found her hands, still dirty. Her clothes were still on, not the paper thin hospital gown she had expected, and it seemed the only thing on her person that had been removed was her shoes.

Temari noted the way Sakura inspected herself. She smiled, trying to look open and friendly to her. After all, they were allies now, and this time it was for real. "Sorry about that," she said with a small grimace of her face, hoping to lighten the poor girl's mood. "We figured you'd rather sleep before changing. It seemed rest was more pressing."

Sakura nodded. "No, no I understand." She slipped up a little at the end as if the sound of her own voice had startled her. It was stronger now, not so dry and cracked in her throat.

"Sakura," Temari started, easing back into her chair at the side of the bed. "How are you doing?"

Sakura looked around and shrugged. "All things considered, I can't complain."

Temari smiled, pressing down a chuckle at the girl's dry humor, she had to have known that's not what Temari had meant. "No, I mean, how is everything? With you? After all that must have happened to…I won't lie, we're all just a little curious as to how you got out there. We don't even have nomads in that area. Haven't for weeks because of the drought."

Sakura nodded. "I didn't mean to end up in the desert," she admitted as she reached for the cool glass of water by her bed. "I didn't mean to end up _anywhere_ actually."

"How so?"

"I was on a mission with my team, a little northwest of Konoha, and we got ambushed by someone. I didn't catch his name, but he was sent by Orochimaru, I know it." Sakura shook her head, remembering all that was said during that fight. "He was there for Sasuke, to toy with him and torment him or… _something_. Towards the end, when he was about to retreat, he snatched me up and took me with him."

"You couldn't manage to get away? Not at any point from there to the Basin?"

Sakura shook her head. "No, hardly had enough time to react to it at all. You know that thing that Gaara does?" she asked, turning her head to fully face Temari. "That thing where he travels as sand?"

Temari readily nodded. "Yes, his teleportation, in a sense."

"Yes, that. Well, whoever attacked us could do the same thing, except…" she paused, trying to remember how it had felt, what it had looked like, what it sounded like. "Except it was electrical. It was bright, like lightening or Kakashi's Chidori, and it was all static and disorienting. I swear," she said, her eyes pleading to be believed. "I swear it only felt like a few moments, like hardly any time at all, and then I managed to pull myself from it and I was ejected from the transport. I didn't think I'd land in the desert, I didn't think he'd take me so far from my team."

"That's really what happened?" Temari asked, her voice a little more stern as she spoke this.

Sakura understood her suspicions. She was a foreigner, without identification, without mission statements or orders to follow, and she should _not_ have been wandering the heart of Wind territory. The possibility of spies and infiltrators were still very high after the assassination of their Kage had gone unnoticed for so long. She nodded, putting on her best trustworthy face, and continued. "I had no idea where I was, I just figured if I went west I would come across someone, or the city."

Temari looked down for a moment, her lips pursed together. "You would have if you hadn't already passed the city." Sakura answered her with a look of confusion. "When you were dropped you were passed the city, going west only took you farther from our scouts. You should have gone east." Sakura stayed quiet and looked down to the blanket covering her legs, there was disappointment clear across her face.

Temari sighed, picking herself up from her chair and going to the sink. She dampened a clean cloth and handed it to Sakura who took it gratefully. She wiped her face, the white cotton turning brown as it cleaned her skin. Given her extensive sunburn, Temari wondered when a shower would be in order.

"Look," she said after a moment, her face a little crestfallen for a moment before regaining some composure. "I need to apologize."

"Why?" Sakura asked as if genuinely surprised with Temari's words. "What for?"

"We noticed your first pulse just after one o' clock this afternoon. One of my scouts picked it up when she was running patrol along the western countryside."

" _Your_ scouts?" Sakura questioned raising a curious brow. Temari nodded, as if unsure what made that so important. "Wow, congratulations, running a team is no easy feat."

Temari scoffed. "Yeah, well apparently I'm not as good as I thought. I was the one that told her not to go check it out. If I had known it was an ally, if I had known it was _you_ …I would have done something about it sooner."

Sakura contemplated the look in the older woman's eyes. She had such a mature face, much as she did during the exams since she was older than her brothers, but the womanly curve of her jaw and cheekbones, the way her nose scrunched and her brow pulled together over her pretty eyes, all gave her a motherly look to her as she worried. But it pointed towards a guilt that Sakura didn't feel was necessary.

"It's all right," she said after a moment, trying to sound as sincere as she could manage. "No harm, no foul."

Her guest sighed, exasperated, and looked to Sakura with impatience. "No harm?" she questioned, making a clear and open gesture to the bed in which Sakura lay and the reddened skin that covered her arms and gave a little too much color to her face. "I fail to see the 'no harm'."

Sakura simply shrugged. "I'm still breathing, that's what matters."

Temari relented, deciding to take her words for the truth they carried. "Okay, I suppose. So anyway, we sent a letter to the Leaf. We let them know that we brought you in and are you're safe."

Sakura sighed a breath of relief. She had known to take care of herself before worrying about her team, they could manage on their own and the only good she could do them out here was to stay alive, but they had still been on her mind a lot. She could practically see Naruto cursing to the wind as she disappeared, trying with pointless desperation to _run_ after her, with Kakashi and Sasuke there to try and talk sense into him. Kakashi would have the sense to forbid them from giving chase to a ghost trail. He would have steered them back to the city, for supplies and backup before setting out after her. He was smart, he knew they needed to be prepared or they'd never stand a chance.

"I estimate it should be there before dawn. Lady Tsunade should be glad to hear you're all right," Temari continued when Sakura stayed quiet, clearly lost in her thoughts. At the sound of her mentor's name, she perked up, a little more attentive, and nodded. "So, it's pretty impressive to be the apprentice of the Hokage. What is she teaching you?"

"Medicine," Sakura answered quickly. "She's teaching me to heal so I can be a field medic. Though I believe she just wishes for me to run the hospital for her." Temari chuckled a little at this. "I've been at it a few months now, and it's anything but easy. She's not a patient or gentle teacher, but any means, but she says I have a knack for it."

"I'll say. A lot of people would have expected you to give out hours before you were brought back. It was a bad day to be out there, especially with how unprepared you were."

Sakura nodded, a grimace pulling at the corners of her chapped lips as she remembered the way the heat had glared down on her, unrelenting, and gave her the feeling of being slowly cooked. "Yeah…it was kinda like hell."

This time Temari grimaced, yet again feeling the guilt of ignoring her calls for help, or more so telling others to ignore them. "God, Sakura, I'm so sorry. I just–"

Sakura groaned, frustrated and finished with that topic of conversation, and turned her stubborn and steadfast eyes back on Temari. "No. Just stop, okay?" Temari quieted. "It's not your fault, it's no one's fault except the guy that took me there. You did nothing wrong, Temari. No one did. Besides, I wasn't trying to get your _scout's_ attention, or _yours_ for that matter."

After a moment Temari spoke again. "Well…then I'm confused."

There was that sigh again, that attitude she had been known for. "I was trying to get _his_ attention."

She went a little cold at Sakura's words, trepidation filling her as she tried to clear her confusion. "Who…exactly?"

As if the answer should have obvious, possibly even written on the walls around them for all Temari knew, Sakura gave her a dumbfounded look. "Gaara. Who else?"

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	6. Part 6

I do not own NARUTO

* * *

Follow the Sun, Part 6

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The storm had indeed grown as Gaara stood unbothered amidst the raging tempest of wind and sand. It was all just noise to him after all, just a little gusty with low visibility and the sand of the storm, much like his own that he carried with him, would never harm him. It parted round him as he walked through the storm, diverging around his form like a stream around a rock poking from the surface. He kept his goggles and scarf on as a precaution though, one could never be too cautious in a sand storm, after all, not even Gaara.

He had been thankful for the way the wind drowned out the voice screeching in his head. His beast had thrown a fit after he left Sakura at the hospital…alive. Gaara would have quickly labeled it a tantrum had it been a child and not a blood hungry demon. It had clawed and scratched at the inside of his skull, roared its protest to the heavens, and his pounding headache was only just starting to subside. He could feel it coming, like a sensation of anxiety that clenched painfully at his chest and churned his guts, and had taken himself out from the city just in case he couldn't manage the beast on his own. But, it had quieted, relenting to its host's steadfast conclusion that the girl would, indeed, live to see herself through the desert.

Gaara reserved little hopes for finding anything to point him to who, or what, had dragged Sakura so far into the heart of his country. He took it as a personal affront to himself, that someone had crept into his country and abandoned a defenseless and unprepared foreigner to the whims of the desert. He had been in the east, to the northeastern border between Wind country and Fire country. Surely he would have noticed something. They would have had to, at some point, cross over his path of travel. Even miles away he could tell friend from foe through the sand, he should have noticed _something_ …but he hadn't. Not until Temari radioed him with the news that whatever it was had already cleared the city limits.

He sighed, looking around to the darkness that surrounded him deep in the wall of sand that swept across the country. Gaara had followed the trail of beacons to the best of his ability, but the pulses had only gotten weaker and eventually died altogether, and there was even less left to make sense of. His thoughts drifted back to Sakura, sure that she was now doing better and recovering in the safety of his city, but there were many things that he couldn't really wrap his head around. He had given up trying to figure out what she was doing in the desert, deciding that it mustn't have been her intention to be out there, and instead began focusing on _why_.

From what he remembered, besides that fire in her eyes and that attitude in her voice, she had been nothing spectacular, or even out of the ordinary, and had seemingly slipped through the cracks of everyone's attention. Though, he did recall something about Lee having a thing for her. He could say the same about Naruto too, but Gaara honestly believed that his infatuation with Sakura was just misunderstood or misplaced feelings, something residual, leftover from a childhood where she had been one of the very few to show him acceptance. Even if it was in her own…queer sort of way.

So she was cared for, maybe even adored by some, so what? In battle, the stronger you were the bigger target you made. The quicker the strong were killed or ripped from the field, the quicker a victory was won. What about that made her a target for kidnapping? What about any of that made her worth the time of someone who could infiltrate a country right under the nose of someone like Gaara?

He simply had no idea. It unnerved him to be unsure, to not know what had happened in his desert.

But, he supposed it wasn't all that confusing if he pushed aside his previous presumptions of her and looked at the facts. She had survived out in the desert for hours, barren of life from the drought, and she had been completely on her own. She had nothing that was considered essential for desert life and yet she had managed to make it much farther than him – or anyone else – would have expected. Somehow heat stroke hadn't overcome her and she had been sending pulses into the ground that had been felt miles and miles away. That took strength, control, and he was a little impressed now that he was free of orders and official duty and could openly think about all that had occurred.

Maybe she _was_ stronger than he had thought, and not just of mind and spirit like she had shown him in the forest, but strong of the body as well. That would be interesting.

Gaara sighed, pulling off his goggles to rub his tired eyes. He had found nothing of importance out in the storm and was growing hungry. Even more so, his investigation had done nothing to answer his questions and had only succeeded in raising even more. He would return to the city, throwing himself to the mercy of the storm's winds, and with their help would reach the protective walls in record time. Instead of his normal slow disintegration that normally swallowed him up, in winds like this, it looked as though he, quite literally, exploded. The wind whipped around him, quickly filling the void where his body previously stood and threw everything that had once been him to the whipping winds of the storm.

He was lost to the storm in an instant, nothing to differentiate between himself and the particles of sand that belonged to the desert as he traveled home.

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Sakura, though desperately trying not to, was becoming very frustrated by the Suna medical staff. They were perfectly professional and did everything with immaculate precision. They had been kind and polite and very, very agreeable. Sakura was convinced that something was up, nothing too suspicious, but something. Her immediate suspicion was actually because of Temari. The heavy handed interest in her association with the Hokage was something that nobody could ignore. She had expected it though, after all, there were reports and official files on record to associate herself with Tsunade. It was only logical to assume that Suna had copies of these documents as well.

"I'm fine, I swear," she assured the nurse that tried to take her temperature. "I'm sitting at a manageable ninety-eight point nine." The nurse paused and stared at her for a moment. "You should go check on other patients, I can take care of myself now." The nurse pursed her lips but didn't object. She wished Sakura goodnight and left the room.

"They're only trying to do their job," Temari chimed in from the bedside chair. She had been with Sakura for hours since Gaara had gone. She'd eaten with her when she was given a late supper and had some puzzle books brought in to keep Sakura's mind busy with Sudoku and crossword when she wasn't speaking with Chiyo.

Sakura sighed and leaned back in her bed again, the pillow thumping behind her head. "I know," she groaned. "But really, I'm _fine_."

"You still look like a tomato," her guest pointed out, peeking her eyes up from her documents.

Sakura looked down at her arms and grimaced. She _did_ still look like a tomato. At least they'd given her something more comfortable to wear to bed. "Yeah, I guess."

Temari grinned before becoming overtaken with a yawn. The worst of the storm had passed over the city and the winds had died down from dangerous to just annoying. But, while swallowed by the maw of the storm, dusk had settled over the desert, and now the skies glowed brilliantly as the dying light reflected through the sand flying through the air. Sakura thought it was beautiful, but was still a little too cross at the desert after her experience to enjoy the scenery.

"It's getting late, Temari," Sakura said as she turned to her. "You don't have to stick around for my sake. You've kept me company enough."

Temari waved a hand in dismissal. "Oh, nonsense. I don't mind at all. Besides, I volunteered to make sure you stayed all right. Being the Hokage's apprentice and all…it's not a good idea to be alone in a foreign land. Even allied nations have their radicals."

Sakura nodded, fully understanding the implications of Temari's words, and truly appreciated the company and concern of these, well…strangers really. "Thanks," she muttered softly.

"Like I said, no problem. But I will be getting relieved soon. I've got to head home and talk with the boys about some things. Niko offered to take the night shift."

Sakura looked cautiously over to Temari as she gathered her things that she had been working on. "I'm not gonna have to deal with a bunch of apologies again, am I?"

Temari shrugged. "Possibly. She felt really bad after you got back, she was the first one to notice your beacons while out on patrol, you know."

Sakura rolled her eyes. She didn't wish to be apologized to, she didn't want people to feel bad about what had happened to her. Especially Niko and Temari. There was a knock that came from the door and Temari answered straight away. There was a woman standing on the other side. She wasn't very tall, had dark hair that was cut in a short bob, and brown eyes as dark as ebony. Her features were very angular, her muscles were toned and tight, and her skin seemed…darker than Temari's and Sakura's.

She nodded to Temari and stepped into the room, surprising Sakura with a low bow. "Miss Haruno," she greeted from her bow, never looking up to her. "Please, accept my apology for this afternoon. I did not intend for you to suffer for so long."

Sakura scoffed, making an open gesture to Temari who only shrugged. A little thrown by her response, Niko raised her eyes. "I accept," she said, a little exasperated. "But it isn't necessary. I'm fine."

"Well," Temari sighed. "I'll leave you to it then. Niko," she said, her subordinate perking up at the sound of her name. "I'll be back around six or seven tomorrow. Radio me if you need anything."

Niko nodded curtly and Temari waved Sakura a farewell, a cute, crooked smile pulled at her lips. The door shut behind her and Sakura and Niko were left alone in the hospital room. Niko looked at the floor, unsure of how to proceed without her captain. This was a foreigner in her lands, but with ties to a very important and powerful political figure. Should she be treated with the same respect? Or would she just find it bothersome, like she did with apologies?

"Niko, right?" Sakura asked, breaking the bit of awkward silence. Niko nodded. "Hey," she greeted. "Feel free to just call me Sakura. And, I wanted to thank _you_ , actually. If you haven't noticed anything I wouldn't be here."

This time Niko scoffed. "Yes, but I did notice and did _nothing_."

"You told someone-"

"I left you out there!" she exclaimed, her fists clenching at her sides, eyes hard as they glared at the floor. "I keep thinking that if I had been five miles farther out, or if you had been five miles closer, I wouldn't have even bothered calling for orders. I would have gone out by myself, brought you back earlier."

"Niko," Sakura began, feeling a little crestfallen at the young woman's attitude. "I wouldn't have had the strength to come back with you."

"Still," she huffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, a scowl pulling at her lips. "I should have been more confident, I know it."

Sakura studied her for a moment after that, the gears in her head turning as she gauged this stranger. "You're nomadic, aren't you?" she asked, her voice quiet as she spoke between them.

Niko nodded. "I was born out there, I grew up out there living on the move. The desert has never scared me and I shouldn't have let it scare me today."

"Lighten up," Sakura sighed. "Or I'm making you stand watch _outside_ the room."

Niko hesitated before relenting a nod. "Fine, but you should get back to sleep soon, you need rest."

"I'm not a child, Niko," Sakura scolded. "And I should know my own limits better than anyone. After all, your dear little desert couldn't kill me. What makes you think weariness will?"

Niko lifted her hands in a sign of defeat. "Fine, do what you will."

She pulled up the chair that Temari had been using and let herself sit and relax after her busy day of patrol. She looked over at Sakura for a moment, just a quick glance out of the corner of her eye, and glimpsed her flipping through the pages of her puzzle book, looking for anything she was yet to solve. Niko smirked to herself, doubtful that Temari planned on the girl being so quick at puzzles, and made a note to tell her to bring that new change of clothes she was talking about so Sakura could get up and leave the confinement of the hospital room.

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Temari opened the front door to her home. Since the death of their father, she had shared the house with just her brothers, not that it was much different than before. Their father wasn't around much anyway. The door opened to show the lights were already on, and the sound of the TV and the smell of cheap food greeted her. Kankuro was sitting in the living room, his feet rested on the stool in front of him while he watched some movie and fiddled with his puppet parts. She plopped down on the couch next to him with a sigh and kicked off her sandals.

"How is she?" Kankuro asked, not even bothering to look up from his work.

"Sassy," Temari answered. "I like her."

Kankuro thought for a moment before nodding in agreement, he had glimpsed that sass before. "What did you find out? How did she manage to make it out there?"

"Has Gaara come back yet?" Kankuro nodded and pointed to the ceiling above them. Sure enough, Temari heard the familiar sound of running water from the upstairs shower. "Say if he found anything?"

"Not yet, no. Just got back a little while before you did."

"Well, Sakura said that whoever dropped her out there had the same type of transportation as Gaara. Said the guy grabbed her and teleported them to the desert. I don't know how she did it, but she made the guy drop her and he just carried on without her."

"Any identification?"

Temari shrugged. "No name or anything like that, but she's convinced he was sent by Orochimaru. Said the guy was there for Sasuke." Kankuro nodded as he listened, thinking over his sister's words as she spoke. "That's about all. She didn't know much else. But, she did say something that struck me as a little surprising."

"Oh yeah?" Kankuro mumbled. "What's that?"

"She was looking for Gaara…specifically."

Kankuro paused at this, his head tilting toward his sister while thought flickered clearly across his dark eyes. "But didn't he try to –"

"Yup."

"And she was –"

"Mhmm."

Kankuro paused, a knowing a sly smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. "So that's it."

"That's…what?" Temari asked, her eyes quickly flickering to the stairs that lead to the second floor…that lead to Gaara.

"I figured something must have happened. He seemed a little off after you left so I asked him what was up. His response was a very convincing ' _nothing'_."

"You think she said something to him?"

"Have you ever known anything to rattle him _besides_ what people say?"

Temari shook her head. Her brother could take attack after attack, survive anything thrown his way, and had even begun to take on the world that despised him face to face, without so much as a whim to stand down. But, there were a few things that one could say, certain events from the past that got brought up, certain things mentioned around him, even names suddenly picked out from a crowd, and it seemed like they never really computed with his brain's circuitry. She tried not laugh at his expense, but he looked so…perplexed when he ' _short circuited'_ , as she would so lovingly put it.

The water to the shower upstairs stopped and Temari got up from the couch to prepare a snack before she settled down for the night. Nothing too complicated, she still had reports to fill, and given the importance of their surprise guest from the Fire country, she figured everyone on the council would want a copy.

 **…**

Gaara stood in the shower, the water turned off now that in no longer went down the drain swirling with brown from dirt. He rested his back against the cool tile of the wall and thumbed his head back behind him too. The shower had done well at relieving the strain he felt in his muscles and it had relaxed him after his long day.

He had been thinking of a lot of things since he returned. Sakura, more specifically. He was still a little unsure about their brief exchange in the desert. He had nearly killed her in the past, fully intending to, and yet the very next time they crossed paths she had looked at him like she was relieved. She wasn't hesitant about his close proximity as others would have been, though he had excused that to the excellent negotiations of his canteen, not himself. And then there was the way she had felt. Small, shaken, vulnerable. She had been much too sweaty and in desperate need of a shower, her face had been streaked with dirt and he had even felt the grittiness of her sandy hair when she rested her forehead against his goggles.

No one ever touched him, even his siblings had taken years to build up the confidence to do so, and yet she had practically collapsed into his support, sighing with relief as he handled most of her weight for her. That one was very confusing to him and only seemed to perplex him the more he thought about it. Maybe it had something to do with Naruto, after being on a team with someone like him for so many years she probably didn't know that hosts were supposed to be feared. He had probably, in a sense, domesticated her to the idea of friendly demon hosts. Or maybe _she_ had simply domesticated _him_. Given his own upbringing as a host, that seemed a little more likely.

But, the most pressing thing that should have been on his mind was what to _do_ about Sakura. She would have to go back to the forest eventually, but she wasn't going to leave alone, less another mishap occur while returning home. He imagined her team, those two idiots that constantly did nothing except butt heads and fight with one another, and figured they would want her back at the soonest opportunity. Her teacher had been a very skilled man, strong and smart with a strategic mind, and would most likely lead an expedition into the desert to retrieve her. But until then, she would have to stay in the city.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind and pulled a clean towel from the hook by the shower. He ran it through his hair and dried himself before dressing and heading downstairs. Kankuro nodded to him, though he thought his expression was a little suspicious, and Temari called him over to run over some things with him. He explained the absolute nothing he had found after going back to the desert, much to his sister's disappointment, and took over the remainder her paperwork so she could get to sleep earlier. He definitely wasn't going to bed anytime soon so he wasn't at all bothered by helping her out while he waited up all night…again. Besides, whatever she was making copies of was complete and it was just the usual scouting statements that he normally did for her.

She yawned, stretching her arms out above her and twisting in her chair to crack her back. She practically purred in the delight at the sounds of the pops in her spine and rose from her seat at the table.

"Well, I'm off to bed. Goodnight, guys," she said as she retreated up the stairs to her own room. Gaara simply nodded to her.

"Goodnight," Kankuro called up the stairs after a moment as he finished up one of his mounting repair projects for his puppets. He set his project aside, leaned back in his seat in the other room, clearly able to see Gaara as he sat slouched at the kitchen table, and waited. When it came to his kid brother he was a very patient man indeed.

But Gaara was always very self-aware, and Kankuro never had to wait long for his brother to know he was being watched. Gaara didn't even face him at first, he just sighed, a little annoyed, and closed the field report file on the table. He rubbed his eyes before looking over at his brother, a blank expression on his face.

Kankuro, satisfied with this little bit of attention, bore a smirk on his face and challenge in his eyes. "Ready to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Gaara asked, his tone lazy and uninterested.

Kankuro snorted from the other room. "Don't play dumb, Gaara. Come on, what did she say to you?" Gaara didn't answer right away and knew that another attempt at diverting the conversation away from that question wouldn't work. Kankuro already knew something was up with him, and at times he pressed even more than Temari did. "Because you know," Kankuro started again after Gaara refused to open his mouth. "She told Temari some things that colored her curious. And a little surprised." Kankuro quieted and smirked over to his brother again, clearly waiting for Gaara to take the bait. He may have been insane most of his childhood, but that didn't mean he wasn't curious by nature.

Gaara hesitated, knowing what his brother was doing, but soon relented. "Fine, I'll bite," he sighed, turning to face him better and crossing his arms over his chest. "What did she tell Temari?"

"Apparently she had a plan the whole time she was out there. Everything that she sent out, all those desperate pulses into the sand, they weren't meant for Temari, or Niko, or any of the scouts for that matter." Gaara pulled his brow together as Kankuro grinned. "They were meant for _you_."

Gaara didn't mean to, but he visibly swallowed.

"And you knew that, didn't you?"

Gaara didn't respond, but instead put his head in his hand and rubbed his eyes again, trying his best to ignore that knowing smirk on his brother's face. The familiar and unpleasantly heavy sensation of guilt started to bubble up within him again and he sighed.

"Ready to talk about it _now?_ "

 _Dammit_.

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	7. Part 7

I do not own NARUTO

* * *

Follow the Sun, Part 7

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Sakura was all alone in her little hospital room. The cool breeze from the desert ghosted in through the window she had managed to crack open, offering some fresh air to the stuffy room. The window was stiff and fought with her as she tried to slide it up the sill. But once open she was greeted by the gentle breeze of a calmer desert. The storm had passed and the town was engulfed in a lulling quiet. There were lights here and there that glowed dimly in the night, all nestled below a truly breathtaking starry night sky. It was quiet though, all private little gatherings of families and friends, one could tell, even from where she stood to look out onto the strange city that had given her refuge when she had none.

Niko had excused herself to use the bathroom, since the exam room had none, and grab a little bite to eat from the vending machines down the hall. It was late, with only the overnight nurses left at the hospital as the others returned home for the night, and it was only Niko walking through the halls as she strolled for a snack. After the door shut and Sakura was stuck in the dull, droning quiet of the hospital's air condition units, she began to get stir crazy. It was dark, but she wasn't tired. She had been off her feet and dozing on and off for hours. Her muscles ached and her feet still didn't want to support her but her brain kept buzzing.

So she had forced the window open, hoping to busy her mind by taking the new and curious landscape and architecture of the Wind country's capital. But something else was in the wind, she realized, as she leaned against the sill of the window, letting the breeze waft over her. It was something familiar. She drew her brow together and took a questioning sniff of the air, something perking in interest within her gut. The breeze picked up, and it blew straight into her window, directly from that strange glass dome she had seen a few blocks away. It was a little while ago when she had glimpsed it, and in the light of the setting sun, it was nothing but blinding reflections off those hexagonal panels of glass.

She scoffed, a little disappointed that she hadn't noticed earlier. Now that she could smell it, she knew what it was. Dirt. Moist, rich, musty soil. Full of decomp and leaf decay, full of nutrients and minerals, the start of everything that feeds and sustains life on land. It came from a greenhouse. And a big one.

Suddenly her feet didn't hurt so much and the ache in her calves didn't pull at her muscles so hard, and she found herself taking breath after breath, filling her lungs with the closest thing she had to the smell of the forest. To the smell of home. But it wasn't enough. Now that she had a taste of that fresh, crisp, slightly rotten smell, she needed more. She wanted to press soft leaves and petals to her nose and breathe their scent. And she was determined. She wagered they had Lavender there, something to sooth the inflammation of her skin. Aloe Vera would grow wonderfully there as well, she was sure of it. All she needed was some semblance of home to reboot her strength and some fresh herbs to fix her skin up, then she would be good as new.

The Suna staff was very kind and helpful, but she knew that no one could fix her better than herself.

She had on some loose fitting capris and a baggy tank top, the material was soft as to not irritate her skin even further, her hair was still dirty and she had managed to pull most of the dirty strands away from her face. But still, she needed a shower. The soothing effects of warm water, however, were only second to the beckoning aroma on the wind. She slipped her shoes on and silently crept from the secluded hospital room.

The hallway was dark, the lights above had been dimmed for the nighttime hours, and she walked silently through the hall toward the front lobby. There were no patients in the lobby, no one waiting for an appointment or coming to pick up a prescription, the lights were off and the front door stood almost glowing against the dark walls. But there was a shadow in the lobby with her, a tall figure standing silently before the doors.

Sakura gave a quick huff of defeat. Of course, an open front door would have been too much to ask for. The man was tall, a little slender in his build in terms of muscle mass, with wide shoulders and a confident stance. Sakura stood her ground and crossed her arms over her chest, not at all attempting to conceal her presence.

The man sighed, as if he had been expecting her, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He kicked a foot against the ground, almost as if he were nervous, and spoke with a pleading drawl to his voice. "Miss Haruno," he started. "Please go back to your room."

Sakura huffed at the sound of the formal address, everyone had been calling her that and it made her feel old. She wasn't a superior to anyone here, at most she was just a peer. "I need to stretch my legs." Her voice wasn't at all nasty or clipped, just sure in her words and obviously willing to be stubborn if called for.

The man nodded, stepping away from the door as he did so. He came into view a little better now and Sakura recognized him as one of Temari's. He had been in the lobby when Sakura first arrived, one of the few faces she remembered in her delirium. "Niko would be happy to accompany you for a round through the hospital."

"You know what I meant, Achi," Sakura countered, her voice a little lower than she intended. "Even back home I wouldn't stand for this kind of cooped up recovery. I need a maintained sense of familiarity to help sooth my restlessness. Pacing around a hospital doesn't become of me."

"Yet you wish to become a doctor," he pointed out, his voice taking on a light upward inflection, but his eyes darted behind her. Sakura knew he was looking for Niko, waiting for his backup against that look of determination on the foreign woman's face.

"And I will, then my pacing will be for productive purposes. As for now, I'd like a walk through the streets while it's nice and cool." She finished and smiled sweetly to him, something he wasn't expecting judging by the way he tensed as if suspicious.

Achi swallowed as he struggled with clear indecision. He sighed after a moment, shaking his head and peering to the ground as he spoke. "I'm sorry, Miss Haruno, but I cannot let you leave the premises."

Sakura felt some of her well-managed control over her temper snap. She took a deep breath, a little shaken from her frustration, and set hard eyes on the man before her. She took a step closer, openly maintaining eye contact with him, and spoke in a low voice, something she was trying to master from her teacher. "Choose your words carefully, Achi. I am either a patient who maintains the right to check myself out of treatment whenever I see fit, or I am a prisoner." Achi tried to stifle a groan, knowing full well where she was going, and not liking it one bit. "And if I'm a prisoner, well, you'll have to fight me then."

"Of course you are not a prisoner," he countered, his own voice showing his frustration while his eyes continued to survey the entrances to the lobby for Niko.

"Then step aside," Sakura suggested without skipping a beat.

"I can't do that, I have my orders."

There was a moment when Sakura truly contemplated backing down after that. She knew it wasn't any intention of his own to keep her cooped up in that hospital room, and he was right when he said he was only following his orders. But still, Sakura was in foreign lands with no one to offer true sanctuary and protection. She should consider herself alone here. Achi, Niko, even Temari, could all turn on her at a moment's notice, and she needed to look out for herself. So no, she would not relent to the rationally sensible thing and go back to bed. She wanted to go to the greenhouse, and dammit, she was going to whether Achi allowed it or not. After all…she was not a prisoner.

"I'm not staying here, Achi. I planned to leave and I intend to."

It was at about this time that Achi finally glimpsed Niko from the hallway. She had approached after hearing the strain in their voices, and finding Sakura's room empty, and was standing still and quiet in the dim hall. She had a look of apprehension on her face, something the likes of trepidation or…maybe even fear. Achi didn't fully understand at first, Niko was a brave soul with a fierce connection to personal resilience, but in the darkness of the hospital lobby, it didn't take him long to see what had caught her attention.

Sakura stood before him, most likely aware of Niko but clearly not paying her any mind, and stared him down with a look of strong resolve. Her lips thinned into a hard line, pulling down as if she were to scowl, and her nose scrunched as her brow pulled together over her bright green eyes. The redness to her skin shown in a very strange sort of way as she was illuminated by a glow. Faint and soft, rippling like light through a still pond, a pale green light seemed to dance across her skin. He stopped breathing for a moment, unprepared for the soft light emitting from her skin and followed it down to where it seemed to pulse through the veins at her wrists and over her hands. It was like he could see her blood, as if it were made of the same green that glowed from her skin, getting brighter the longer he looked, and it was as if it pooled there in her hands, or more so her fists.

He didn't want to, truly he didn't, but this was a clear display of some power he didn't quite know how to deal with, or what to even expect. He couldn't let it slide. He stepped forward, Niko reaching out to him as if she could do anything to diffuse their situation, and he made a grab for Sakura.

She moved very quickly, the soft light from her hands, though dull even in the darkness of the hospital lobby, was enough to distract him and he soon found himself stumbling back.

"Achi!" Niko exclaimed, stepping quickly over to the pair as she dropped whatever snacks she had been carrying in her arms.

Still, Sakura paid her no mind and only advanced further as Achi got back to his feet. He was a little flustered now, thoroughly embarrassed for getting knocked down so easily, and tried again. What he didn't know was that Sakura was very good at controlling her chakra, no matter how little she had left to work with, and the right hook she delivered to his cheek was enough to rival even that of Guy. The smack was solid and satisfying as he went down again, and this time he stayed there.

Niko stopped her advance at Sakura's side, looking on with her as they stared at the body lying on the floor. He was out cold. "Damn," she muttered, unintended, but she just a little impressed with the results of Sakura's punches.

Sakura shrugged, the glow that shone beneath the skin of her hands – the way it pulsed through her veins with her heartbeat – all died away as she settled herself and let her normal energy flow relax. "He said I couldn't leave, that was unfortunate."

Niko looked over to Sakura with some stubbornness to her angular features. She obviously wasn't so easily swayed from Sakura's outburst. "Look, I'm all for not getting punched, but he's right."

Sakura nodded. "I know. But I can't stay in here anymore. I need some fresh air."

Niko narrowed her eyes at Sakura, obviously caught in thought with an expression similar to Achi's; hesitant and clearly reluctant. "Fine," Niko said, her voice coming out low and clipped. "But you only have two hours, all right? Then it's back to the hospital. I don't need to be getting demoted over this," she finished with a grumble, her eyes swinging low as she looked to the side with a pout on her lips.

Sakura smiled, quite literally beaming at the woman's compliance, and nodded in ready agreeance. "It'll be fine, I promise." Niko only rolled her eyes at this.

"Any idea where you want to go? We'll basically have the run of the town this late at night."

Sakura nodded, heading for the lobby's front doors. She made a quick check at Achi as she passed, making sure that he wouldn't be too sore after he woke up. Nothing worse than she'd ever given Naruto. In fact, he might be tempted to say that Sakura had gone easy on the Suna guard. But still, whenever he did manage to come to, he would be no worse for wear. It seemed Niko shared this opinion, given the way that she stepped over her fallen comrade as if it were just another day to her.

"Ah, ah," Sakura scolded as Niko reached for the door handle. She looked to Sakura, taking a moment's pause. Sakura pointed to the ear piece hidden beneath that dark bob of hers. Niko thinned her lips and cursed under her breath. With a triumphant smile, intent on thoroughly enjoying her little outing, Sakura spoke with a lightness to her voice. "You're not coming anywhere with me if you've still got that in. After all, I'm just a guest, right? Not a prisoner?"

Niko grimaced, it was supposed to be a smile, but that just didn't work out. "Of course," she agreed with a tight voice. She pulled the bud from her ear and unclipped the radio collar from her vest. With a little bit of thud against the table, she tossed them to the side. "Lead the way."

Once outside, Sakura stood in the soft breeze ghosting through the streets of the city, breathing in the tantalizing and seductive scent that had beckoned her out of her stuffy room. Niko took pause at her side, her eyes scanning the empty streets, ready to take on any threat to Sakura out in the open, and seemed to notice the way Sakura sighed with pleasurable relief as the smell of moist decay hit her nose. "Where to?" Niko asked shortly.

Sakura looked to Niko then, a slightly naughty and crooked smirk on her lips. "I have an idea."

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

"That's ridiculous!"

"No, it's actually not. At all." Kankuro stared blankly at his brother, doing his best – and actually managing – to hide his amusement at Gaara's expense. Their little conversation had escalated quite a bit now that he had pried enough to get under Gaara's skin. It all came pouring out after that, all his pent up frustration had been spilled forth and laid out plainly for Kankuro to inspect. He had been rather surprised after getting his explanation, he never would have assumed it all to be about a girl. But it was.

"How is that supposed to go well for me?" Gaara demanded, that twitchy look of unease still rippled across his face. His features shifted from hard and set in a displeased scowl, to scrunched together in confusion and bewilderment. It mainly depended on the last words to leave his brother's mouth.

Kankuro couldn't help but chuckle at this. "It won't. It's not supposed to go well for you, Gaara, that's what makes it a sincere apology."

Gaara grimaced and looked to the floor. Kankuro had managed to get to the source of Gaara's irritation and was trying to give him some insight into how to deal with matters such as this. In regards to Sakura, Gaara was indeed clueless. It was very obvious to Kankuro that his little brother felt bad, guilty even, for his past actions toward her. He was happy about this, it meant that not only were his actions and behavior changing, but _he_ was changing as well. But with that change came the arduous task of seeking recompense for past transgressions.

"It's not so bad," Kankuro urged. "You'll see."

"What if it doesn't go well at all?" he snapped, a little shorter with his brother than intended. It was just the topic that got him all worked up.

"Like what? Like if she rejects your apology or like if she tries to smack you?"

Gaara paused for a moment, a dumbfounded expression on his face. "Well," he began, a little agitation showing in his voice. "If those are my only two options…then I guess both."

"There's nothing you can do," Kankuro replied with a shrug. Gaara felt his shoulders slump.

"Nothing?" he pressed. "Nothing at all?"

Kankuro shook his head. "Sorry, man. But that's how this stuff works. You surrender yourself to the whim of another. However momentarily it may be, but that little bit of vulnerability goes a long way with people. They _appreciate_ the gesture. Even if you _are_ bad at talking."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Gaara grumbled before rubbing his eyes with a sigh.

Kankuro just chuckled. "I've got more confidence in you than in anyone else, Gaara. Nothing holds you back, only yourself."

Gaara pondered this for a moment, searching for what his brother meant beyond the obvious, beyond his use as a soldier and weapon of war. "Is it," he began, not really knowing how to proceed. "Is it like that for everyone?"

Kankuro snickered and nodded curtly. "Oh, yeah," he affirmed. "Welcome to being just like the rest of us." He stood after that and stretched out with a yawn. He exhaled in a huff as he continued. "I hope it's worth it."

Gaara rolled his eyes before slouching back in his chair.

Kankuro walked passed and gave him a quick wave goodnight before heading up the stairs. He turned before he walked up the stairs, pausing a moment as he thought over his words. "Listen," he started, all joking and good humor gone from his voice. "After everything that happened, she entrusted you with her life today. And to me, that sounds like someone who might be willing to go as far as forgiving you too. But," he sighed, running a hand through his choppy brown as he looked to the floor. "You won't know unless you try. I'm just saying that…you might not get a better chance."

The hallway light shut off and Gaara was left in the soft glow of the lamp on the end table. It illuminated the folder that held Temari's documents. He stared at the folder a moment, stewing over the idea of doing the paper work for his sister. His conversation with Kankuro, meant to ease his worry, had only added more doubt and apprehension to his person. This… _apology_ that he was to give Sakura was supposed to leave him vulnerable and that was said to be a good thing. Perhaps he had misunderstood but he had quickly grown sour of the subject.

He was immediately stumped when Kankuro had asked what he intended to say to the poor girl, who was completely unaware of the brooding attention she had been given by Suna's own Gaara Sabaku, and had offered a sorry excuse for an answer. He was rather certain that, _'so listen, sorry I tried to crush you to death just to spite your teammates'_ wasn't the greatest thing to say. Kankuro had told him that he was right. He suggested easing into it, perhaps bringing it up in a less…abrasive way.

Gaara really should have scoffed at the very idea. He was born of the desert, his body could mold seamlessly with the sand, and the very land spoke to him and surrendered to his will. By his most basic nature, he was considered _abrasive_. But what was he to do about Sakura? She was now, by order, on lock down within the walls of his city. She wouldn't be permitted to leave until it was confirmed that either she was to be escorted back, or she was to wait until her team came to retrieve her. Either outcome still left him with too much time to convincingly avoid her without raising any suspicion. He was sure that _she_ wouldn't notice or at all care, but his _brother_ was a different story. Now that he knew, Gaara was on a timeline.

He stifled a groan, rubbing his tired eyes and doing his best to ignore that throbbing in his head. If his headache came back now, he wasn't likely to shake it for another few hours. He rubbed his temples and tried not to think about that nagging question at the back of his head. But it was just too pressing. It had bothered him for months and now that she was here, it wasn't about to vacate his thoughts anytime soon. What if she couldn't forgive him? What if she chose not to offer him forgiveness for what he had done, for the mistake he had made? Gaara would never have admitted it out loud, or even to himself if he could help it, but he had been counting on her to forgive him.

He had watched how she interacted with Naruto, he had seen glimpses of how he agitated her and rattled her to the point of bursting. But every time it always ended with her still standing by his side and proclaiming their friendship without shame or apprehension. She could constantly forgive his grievances and shortcomings even knowing what he was and what lie dormant inside of him. And Naruto himself, he adored her. There had to be a reason why, a reason that maybe…just maybe, she could share with himself.

It unnerved him to think of what he would do if he was denied that same acceptance, but also didn't really what to do should he be granted such a sentiment. What would he do with it? Gaara had no idea.

Gaara felt something shift at the corner of his attention, something prickling in his peripheral. Someone was approaching the house, quickly. He got up and met them at the door, quietly pulling it open before they could knock and disturb his siblings, and was surprised to see Achi standing stiff and rigid on the other side of his door.

"Oh!" he said, jumping slightly when the door opened before he could knock. "Good evening, Sir," he addressed quickly, obviously preoccupied with something. "Is Captain Temari in?"

"She's gone to bed for the night. What is it?" Gaara asked in a low tone. He may not have slept like the normal man, but that didn't mean he appreciated being bothered in the late hours of the night.

Achi thinned his lips, not at all happy about what he was about to admit to his captain's more intimidating brother. "Well," he began, subconsciously bringing up a hand to touch the side of his face as he looked to the dirt. "It's Miss Haruno. I'm afraid that she insisted on leaving the hospital grounds. I tried to dissuade her, but…she packs a surprising punch. I'm sorry to say that she knocked me out cold, and when I came to, she and Niko were gone. Niko left her radio."

Gaara had folded his arms over his chest as his subordinate relayed this unfortunate turn of events. His face, though he hardly noticed, had gradually shifted into a deep frown and Achi shifted on his feet as he waited for Gaara to speak.

Not wise to bet on such things, Achi decided to just continue. "I don't know how to proceed. I was told that in no way shape or form was she to be treated as a prisoner, yet she was forbidden to leave the hospital. I need to reinforce her parameters, but can't lay a hand on her doing it. I figured I'd try and speak with the captain before following through with anything."

Slightly puzzled by Achi's words, Gaara thought for a moment. Achi, though nervous and skittish around Gaara, was actually a rather strong man. He wasn't small by any means and wasn't easily deterred by nothing more than a punch to the face. "I'll do it," he said after a moment, his eyes flickering to the city behind Achi. "I've got an idea as to where she might have gone."

Achi nodded, looked to the ground for a moment and bowed curtly before turning and taking his leave. Gaara waited a moment, studying the way his subordinate walked off. He scuffed his feet and hung his head, his shoulders slumped but tense. Nursing a hurt pride, most likely, and that intrigued Gaara. It must have been one good punch to do that to Achi.

He turned back inside for a moment, grabbing a jacket for the brisk night air and throwing it on. As he fastened the buttons down the front, his eyes caught the folder still waiting patiently under the dim glow of the lamp. He was suddenly overcome with the urge to see just what it was that his sister had been copying earlier and picked up the folder. He flipped open the cover and skimmed over the simplified documents on top, rough copies of the original without all the non-essential information.

Sakura's name was at the top, along with her teacher and her teammates, and then some additional deployment history of missions. Her grades in school, much better than his had ever been, and the additional optional courses that she had filled her time with. But then he got to the bottom of the page, to the more present reports of her history.

Wait…that can't be right. Could it? Surely not, so he cast the copied papers to the table and searched for the original document. His sister must have misread something, or misspelled or miscopied or misunderstood, or something. He found the original document at the back of the folder. The paper was thin and soft after so much handle over the months. He quickly read through the words on the report.

"… _excellent example of academic success and shows true promise in the fields of…excelling in her training…shows impressive retentiveness to materials learned…cleared for apprenticeship with Lady Tsunade…"_

"Holy shit…" he muttered, his eyes widening a little as he read. Sakura? Apprenticed with Tsunade? He had heard stories of the woman, but never would he have guessed her to take a person like Sakura under her wing. There were plenty of people, in Suna included, that would have killed for an opportunity to train under the world renowned medical ninja of the Fire country. But according to the file, Sakura had been practically hand-picked.

Gaara stared down at the name on the paper, the name of the new leader of the Leaf. She was a strong-minded woman who many learned quickly not to trifle with. She was steadfast and stubborn, a great ally and deadly adversary. His eyes then shifted to the picture that had been clipped to the top of that page, the picture of Sakura. Her eyes were wide and bright, brimming with excitement for her upcoming challenges. Her smile was soft and subtle, but it brightened her face and lit a fire of pride in her eyes. She was clearly confident in herself. How had he missed that before?

Gaara folded the paper, taking care not to crease the picture attached to it, and stuffed it in his pocket. It had a lot of information about her history with the Leaf's national military, and of her personal self as well, and that just might come in handy. He went back to the door, his attention falling to his gourd that lay perched against the wall waiting for him. That voice in his head came back and he didn't miss the way that the sand in the gourd stirred and shook in response.

The beast was getting excited again. Yet again he was to set out after her. Only this time it was just Achi who knew of his plans, someone easily silenced, and it was dark and empty through those streets. No one around to see. It would be another game of chase for the girl who was growing stronger and stronger the longer she stayed in his city, just what that _thing_ wanted. Gaara stifled the thoughts and quickly walked out of his home, leaving the gourd sitting by the door. It was not only his protection, but his weapon as well, and he didn't want to risk a threatening appearance when trying to wrangle a more able-bodied Sakura. Else she try and hit him like she had Achi.

He chose not to transport himself and took the walk to the hospital as an opportunity to gather himself. Gaara tried desperately to come to a quick and simple solution as he walked briskly through the streets back toward the hospital by mulling over Kankuro's words. He had been right, after all, now was a good a time as he was ever going to get. If he didn't try and make amends with her now, she may never wish to hear it from him. Then what would he do? Spend the rest of his life scorned by the one person he had ever seen actually love someone like him? He wasn't much of the jealous type, but he deeply wanted the acceptance and ease that Naruto had with her.

Gaara sighed, frustrated with – not only himself – but also this girl he had spent the better part of his day chasing. It had been on and off his mind for months, but only now was he starting to understand how much of a threat she truly was to him.

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×


	8. Part 8

I do not own NARUTO

* * *

Follow the sun, Part 8

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

A few blocks away from the hospital, the large glass dome of the city's greenhouse rose from the sandstone buildings around it. Truly, it was a queer thing to see amongst all the beige and brown, but the way it reflected the stars at night and the way it glowed green with the sun in the afternoon gave it its own unique beauty. It was only logical to assume that this is what had pulled Sakura from her hospital bed. It was a little oasis in this dry and arid city, an island of moist soil and dewy leaves. Gaara often thought the smell was overwhelming and had hardly ever ventured into the gardens, but Sakura would have thought the thickly aromatic air was comforting and reminiscent of home.

He looked up to the tops of the buildings as he walked through the breezy streets, the rounded top of the glass dome coming into view above the roofs as he drew closer. He could smell it on the breeze, the dirt and water and leaf litter, and exited the side street to see Niko pacing by the south side entrance. It was a private entrance, for greenhouse staff and escorted medical personnel only. Niko looked frazzled, her energy was erratic and jittery, not her normal collected and controlled demeanor.

"Niko," Gaara said as he approached. She jumped a little bit at the sound of his voice, clearly lost in her thoughts, and straightened herself as he stood beside her. He crossed his arms over his chest, not in an authoritative manner, but in his usual lazy slouch. "Achi told me what happened."

She let out a breath. "Okay, good, I'm glad he's okay."

"Nothing but a damaged pride."

She nodded. "I figured…it's just that, it was so weird." Gaara didn't respond but drew his brow together in question. Niko struggled for a moment, trying to find her words. "I had just left to go get us something to eat and when I get back she's having a standoff with Achi in the front lobby. I didn't catch exactly what he had said to her but she…" She scoffed. "Look, I've seen nurses and doctors heal people before, I know about the greenish glow that comes with the external use of chakra, but…this was different. Like it came from inside of her. It was dark in the lobby, so I could see it better, like it ran through her blood and made her veins glow. I thought I was going crazy, but, once she one punched Achi into the ground I knew it was something." She sighed, obviously distraught over something. "I know I wasn't supposed to tell anyone but –"

"I read her files," Gaara said, guessing where she was about to go with her statement. Niko breathed a sigh of relief. She looked to the ground, a little unsure of what was going to happen with her superior after the day's shenanigans, and Gaara studied her for a moment. "You should go," he suggested. "I can take it from here."

She nodded and looked to the side in thought. "You sure?" she asked, Gaara nodded. "Okay. I told her she had two hours. She needs to go back to the hospital. Lady Chiyo will want a final evaluation of her condition before officially permitting her to leave."

"Got it," Gaara said shortly with a curt nod. Niko nodded again, turned toward the side street, but hesitated before giving him a small wave for a goodbye. Gaara merely nodded again in return.

Niko had good promise, he mused as he stood before the door alone in the dark. She was hard on herself and wasn't the best at making friends with women…or most men, but she was dedicated to the job and brutally honest when called for. Personally, he could take her or leave her, but he was also content with knowing that someone like Niko was going to be there for his sister if ever he couldn't be.

But, with her gone and he standing along in the desert breeze, now thoroughly chilled by the absence of the sun, Gaara had matters to tend to. He looked over to the door, it was shut and offered him nothing but for some reason, it seemed…odious. Like it knew that he was hesitant, reluctant to open the door and face what was on the other side. He knew she was still in there, he could feel her signature, so alike what she had left in the ground; pulsing with little flutters of life and heartbeats, but stronger now. Fuller, vibrant, and if he focused and drew his attention to beyond that wall that stood so solid in front of him, if felt warm too.

But that door mocked him, daring him to open it, and for a moment he wished he didn't have to. He did, though, and was greeted by a dark entry way to the back of the greenhouse. It was the lab area, where they nursed seedlings and made most of the herbal remedies that were needed by the hospitals and clinics. Most of the natural products here would be reduced to their concentrated and basic form before being shipped and sold to be used in medicines. It was a clean room, thoroughly scrubbed every night to ensure zero contamination, thought it felt a little humid to him now. Just down the darkened corridor to his right, he saw the dim glow of the stars through the glass ceiling of the dome. Shadows of trees crossed through the starlight and the smell of leaf decay and stagnant water filled the air. Why it was considered so intoxicating to those forest-dwelling foreigners, he'd never understand. It just smelled rotten to him.

He walked slowly down the hall, enveloped in the dark but letting his steps echo so she knew that someone had come in the building. When he entered the greenhouse's dome, he stood in the soft blue light of the stars, free from clouds and walls of sand, and the large maze of plants and trees was surprisingly lit when not dissolved in shadows. The trees were towering, lifetime inhabitants of the greenhouse, and with them were their forest dwelling plants of both sun and shade loving varieties, all placed accordingly to their needs. There was a more tropical section with colorful flowering plants of large vibrant petals and leaves, and the easily grown desert plants that they kept at the front entrance, away from the main watering system.

Gaara walked through the wet stone paths that wound around the large beds of flowering stalks and woody bushes and shrubs. Vines and air plants grew on the branches of the trees and stretched over the walkways, little ponds gave water to miniature wetland marshes, and in the darkness, it looked like an alien world of constantly shifting ecosystems. And it appeared that he had forgotten just how big it really was. A hissing sound rippled overhead as it resonated out around the dome, followed by a gentle mist of water sprayed on the plants. It stuck in tiny little droplets to the surfaces of broad-leaved plants and delicate petals. Gaara wiped a hand through his hair, now just a little damp, and was a little upset that he had ended up walking through a wall of mist as the greenhouse's plumbing system did its scheduled watering. The tropical plants and little wetlands fell away and the wet soil, dark and soggy with clumps of leaves and sticks, shifted to thick, soft dirt, spewing the plants of the forest from the soil beds. He rounded a corner in the little path he had been following, using whatever trail had been placed through the maze of plants to find the epicenter of the energy that fluttered through the dome, and it was there that he had spotted her.

He stepped out from the bend, looking up just in time to glimpse her, and quickly stepped back into the cover of the plants. His heart flipped in his chest, pumping cold blood through his veins. He cursed himself, feeling a fool for acting so startled. He _had_ been looking for her, hadn't he? Yes, but that didn't mean he had been prepared to _find_ her. She didn't notice him, as far as he could tell, and in that momentary glimpse, he had seen her with her back to him, sitting on the bed of plants, and appeared to be running a towel over her hair. What had she been doing?

He took a breath, steadying his heart and his nerves, they did nothing to help him with that voice that haunted him, and stepped back into the open path. She had moved, sitting sideways on the stone ledge of the soil beds, towel still clutched in her hands, and had turned to his direction. Apparently, she had noticed him.

 _Damn_.

He stood there for a moment, just staring at her, and hopelessly wished that she would just assume it was because of his demeanor. Truly, however, it was because of the way she looked. Now _that_ , he had not been expecting. Her skin and face were clean and her hair was slick with water and stuck to her cheek and neck. Her eyes were a little tired, maybe just still mentally worn after the long day, but her skin was back to its usual paleness, though perhaps a little more sun-kissed than he remembered, but even in the dark he could see no traces of the sunburn or the scrapes that had riddled her skin when he had retrieved her from the desert. To anyone else, it would have been impossible to guess that just hours ago she had nearly lost herself to the unforgiving heart of the Basin.

She shifted a little, possibly uncomfortable with his staring, so he nodded once and took a step closer. "You look better," he said, praying as he did so that his voice wouldn't catch in his throat or she wouldn't notice the way he had failed to quell that worrisome beating of his heart.

She didn't miss it and it struck her a little strange, but she just nodded, looking down her legs as she did so, playing with the hem of her borrowed capris, and shrugged. "I clean up pretty well, I've been told."

"And pretty quickly, too."

This time she smiled, not at him, more so to her knees, but she still smiled and he took that as a small victory. "I've got a knack for it."

"So I've heard." He took a few more steps, gauging how she would react to his proximity now that her life wasn't on the line. "Care to explain Achi to me?" he suggested, crossing his arms and coming to rest a few paces away from her.

She sighed and brought up a hand to rub the back of her neck. "Well, I couldn't stay there and I was told I couldn't leave and it was driving me nuts. No offense to the medical staff, but after I got rehydrated I was fine to look after myself." She made an open gesture to her unburned skin as a point.

"You couldn't do that at the hospital?" he questioned.

She shook her head. "I _could_ , but I didn't _want_ to. Mental and emotional health play a big role in getting back to your old self. Plus," she said as she turned behind her and picked up a small stalk of purple flowers. Most of them were gone, but a few small blossoms remained. "I figured that the greenhouse would have Lavender and Aloe. Fresh plants are the best for treating sunburn. Cleared it right up." Sakura twirled the stem of the blossom stalk between her fingers as flipped off her sandals. She scooted back to sit cross-legged on the soft ground, it was covered in a spongy mat of moss, a preferred seat over the hard stone ledge. "But really," she said after a moment. "After so much desert I needed some green again. To just smell the dirt, you know?"

"Why?" Gaara inquired. "Why the infatuation with dirt?"

She snickered at this. "I know, it sounds strange, but I love the smell. It smells like a lot of things. Sometimes it smells rich and heady and other times it smells rotten and stagnant." Gaara nodded to this, fully agreeing. "But it's not just the smell. It's what the smell _is_. Dirt, soil, compost piles, they are both the end and the beginning of something. Leaves and dead fruit and fallen petals all revert back to what they came from. A clumpy soup of minerals and nutrients that fuel all life on land. So, yeah," she said with a crooked smirk as she looked back at him. "I like dirt."

He wished she hadn't done that. No one truly smiled at him – just nervous twitches of the face – but hers had been so small and so innocent in the way it pulled her lips crooked, and he felt his heart clench in his chest. Did he even want to risk his apology anymore? Perhaps it had just been an unspoken sweep under the rug and he needn't voice his concerns or his regrets. Perhaps if he did, she would only grow sour for bringing up past events she had wished to forget. Maybe all this good nature and lack of panic he was receiving were just a front to keep her in the clear. But, her little laugh had seemed truly genuine.

He didn't quite know what to say, about anything, and was grateful when she took the initiative to speak. "Where's Niko?" she asked, peering into the dark shadows of the greenhouse behind him.

"I relieved her of her watch, but not before she told me of your preset time frame."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah I know. But I've still got an hour," she confirmed as she looked up at him with stern eyes, telling him her time here was not to be cut short. He obeyed by simply sitting on the bench across the patch from her chosen mossy perch.

"You were in the back room, weren't you?" he guessed as she continued to use her fluffy white towel to dry her hair. She nodded readily. "That's a private area," he said, his tone leaving the statement open ended.

She nodded again. "I know," she responded, her voice light and easy as if she were admitting to nothing. "I've worked in greenhouses before, I understand what not to touch. But they had showers in the back, and I was still all dirty."

"Can I trust that you haven't disrupted anything back there?"

"Of course," she said, a light smile and nod accompanying her answer. Genuine, truthful.

Gaara nodded and looked to the side, still mulling over how exactly to bring up his apology. He almost felt bad, sure that any sort of explanation that he could muster would fall short of the recompense he should have paid. Didn't she deserve better? Maybe not…he hardly knew her after all and maybe she was a terrible person who deserved little more than he did. Though he knew that wasn't true, it couldn't be. He wouldn't lie to himself just to justify his misgivings about facing the music.

"Um…" she started, the softness of her voice almost surprising him, if that were possible, and he peered over at her as she folded her towel, an obvious distraction for her suddenly nervous hands. "I'm sorry…" she muttered. "About all of this."

His throat went dry. What had she just said? _She_ was sorry? But… _he_ was the one who was supposed to finally gather the courage to put himself on the line for the sake of forgiveness, yet she had so smoothly beaten him to the punch. He swallowed, not wanting to so audibly try and clear his throat, and dared to ask, "All of what?"

Sakura shrugged, looking around the canopy of green and the cushion of moss on which she sat. "Just…I don't know. Being here, I guess. In the desert, in your city…in the greenhouse."

Gaara looked to the ground, unsure of what she expected from him, and chose not to answer.

"I didn't mean to cause anyone any trouble." She finished and her voice quieted, leaving them alone in the silence filled with little more than the airy sound of mist and the ripples of water over those little ponds.

"You startled Niko," he admitted, studying the way Sakura's face shifted with her thoughts and feelings, trying to memorize the way it reacted to the things he said. She smirked, though, a little prideful, like the grin the picture he still had in his pocket, and raised her eyes to meet his.

"I know, I didn't mean to. But it's easier for people to see in the dark."

He took a moment's pause, pulling his brow together in question, and he let his curiosity get the better of him. "What is…exactly?"

Sakura, as if anticipating his inquiry, quickly cracked her knuckles and flexed her fingers for a moment before clearly settling herself into focused concentration. She stood then, standing before the shallow stone ledge and flattened her bare feet on the damp ground, letting the water pooled between the stones cool her and settle her. Her hands rested, hovering low in front of her, and she closed her fingers tight into a fist. She took a deep breath, determined to make a good show, and steadied the flow of energy through her veins. She could feel it pulse, vibrate, shake. It buzzed through her hands, just controlled enough to not reach the surface, and after a moment of letting it build and grow, she opened her fists and the green glow shot through her veins. It rippled down her wrists and illuminated the blood vessels that lay over her bones and tendons. Fluttering green light ran through her skin like rivers over the land, glowing pale and faint, but vibrantly all at the same time.

Before he really even knew what he was doing, Gaara was on his feet and taking quick steps toward her. His eyes locked on her hands, the way the light running within them pulsed and glowed, and he stared with true fascination. Niko had been right. He had also seen the techniques used by medical professionals in his time in the field, but this _was_ different. Normally the glow seemed to envelop the hands as if it manifested in the air itself, but this seemed to come from her blood, from _within_ her.

Sakura smiled, though she tried to hide it, and couldn't help but giggle at the way Gaara's expression had so suddenly changed at the display of her abilities. Not even truly her abilities, just a simple example of her control. She could make it look so pure and so vibrant because of the amount of discipline and mastery she had over her body's natural energy.

She looked down at her hands just as Gaara did, not all trying to ignore or hide the way she felt a little proud of her ability to surprise him, and shrugged. "Just this," she said, finally giving a verbal response to his previous question.

Gaara nodded, a little absent-mindedly, and brought up a hand as if to touch her. He quickly recoiled though, as if catching himself in his own actions, and looked to her with strange eyes. She was almost taken aback at how completely innocent they looked. It was as though whatever sourness that had been hovering over him when he came here had gone and been replaced by a pure sense of fascination and wonder.

"Can I touch it?" he asked. His voice was smooth and curious even though it was clear across his face that the question had been difficult for him.

Sakura simply nodded and held out a hand, turning it over and presenting it to him palm side up, so that he could better see the exotic way the light pulsed with her heartbeat under the thin skin of her wrist. She watched him tentatively, keeping her pulse in check to ensure he didn't so obviously see how nervous she was getting but was pleasantly surprised at how gently he had taken ahold of her wrist.

She had expected his hand to be cool, not that she knew why exactly, but his fingers were warm as they wrapped delicately around her wrist, the slightest bit of a tug indicating he needed to hold it closer, and she obliged. He peered at the light that rippled under her skin and mused over how warm her skin was, how it seemed to buzz with electrical energy, and, strangely, how soothing it was to just stand there and watch the way it moved and flowed through her veins.

"I know it looks cool now," she said as he studied her skin. "But it can turn into a big threat in no time flat."

Gaara didn't need to question it, he was that sure she was right. But what she was doing was so captivating. He had never seen such control and such purity of power and energy before, and so easily done as well. He wanted to look at her face, to see if she was showing signs of struggle or determined concentration to keep the energy flowing so strongly, but he didn't want to waste any time not memorizing everything he could about her skin. The way it felt, the way the energy felt under it, clearly two separate parts of what made up who Sakura was, and he tried to wrap his head around the fact that she had so willingly shown him the purest and most basic form of what was, theoretically, the physical manifestation of her own life. She seemed so relaxed, her hand was limp as he held it as gently as he could, afraid of damaging the softness of her, and he allowed himself a moment of amazement at how effortless this little display proved to be for her. It was as though she turned it on and forgot about it, like it required no second thought or control, it just ebbed and flowed as she did.

He caught himself though, finally realizing that he shouldn't have been so brazen as to ask to touch her, and he dropped her hand. She didn't recoil as he had expected her to, and instead only watched with mild interest as the light in her veins slowly dulled and vanished beneath her skin. He took a step back and cleared his throat as he searched for something to say.

"That's impressive," he admitted, trying to practice giving compliments. As his sister insisted, recognition of promise and success was a necessary skill of a leader, whether it be political or on a team.

He didn't miss the way that her face strained after his words, her lips tilting down in a failed attempt to cover up a grin. She chose to let it show, however, and it beamed on him like the afternoon sun. Her lips pulled back in a wide grin, her eyes squinting above her cheeks, and a certain glow nestled over her features as she smiled. Happy, he figured it was, though it only confused him, and he was content to know that he had at least given her that sense of happiness if he could offer nothing else.

"Thanks, Gaara," she said, her voice quiet as she spoke between them, engrained with authenticity and warmth. But there was something about the way that she had said his name, so informally, so fluently, as if she had said it countless times before…it got to him.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, his words rushing out of his stunned skull too quickly to catch. He cursed himself, looking to the ground after he heard his voice betray him, and gave and exasperated sigh.

Sakura said nothing at first, and it nearly killed him to sit through that silence, but she was merely looking over his features, searching for something on his face. She opened her lips to say something, but thought better of it before sighing and folding her arms across her chest. "About before?" she asked, her voice quiet, so quiet he was sure he would have missed it he hadn't been paying attention.

He nodded once, it was all he could do. He couldn't even look at her face, truly fearful of the look he might see in those eyes. They had just been smiling at him, _glowing_ at him, and he didn't want to see them stare him down with any sort of enmity or fear. Maybe he had made a mistake. Maybe he had invested too much into this forgiveness he had been secretly wishing for ever since his return to the desert all those months ago, maybe he had tried to get forgiveness from the wrong person. He watched her feet shuffle her weight as he glared at the ground, hoping to quell some of these troublesome feelings by blaming the cobblestone for his turmoil.

"It's okay," she said after a pause, though it felt much longer than it had been, and her voice seemed stronger now, less apprehensive.

But this only further baffled Gaara. He was visibly surprised, given the way his head snapped to attention and his eyes went a little wide. "It's…okay?" he repeated, trying to retain from openly gaping at her. Gods, had he ever thought anyone would ever say that to him? No, of course not, because of course it wasn't _okay_. He knew that, that's why he was seeking this chance at an apology.

Sakura shrugged after taking a moment to appreciate the way he looked so…perplexed. Such expressions seemed a rarity with him.

"How…how is it okay?" he asked after a moment, decided that, yes, this was indeed worth clearing up.

She took a breath and looked around before deciding to sit back down on her little mossy seat. She smoothed her hands over her knees and thought about what she was going to say, what she could possibly come up with to justify her response, however genuine it had been. "Because," she said after a moment. "I have been put in danger because of people before. I can't tell you how many times I could have bit the dust on missions because of Naruto and Sasuke and their constant bickering. Thank god Kakashi is there but…still." She looked up at him, his figure standing rigid and clearly uncomfortable, and pressed on. "The point is, even the people closest to me have damn near killed me just by being themselves. So, yeah, you may have tried to kill me, but…"

"But what?" he snapped, his voice coming out much sharper than he had intended. She flinched and he faltered a moment, trying to rein in that tempered voice that often still got the best of him in his frustration. He tried again, more evenly this time. "What could possibly justify what I did? I didn't care about you, Sakura."

Her eyes rose to meet his, almost defiant, but she quickly seemed to shrink back before looking at the ground. "I know, and I know that you still don't care." He flinched back at her words, confused, but also at the tone in her voice. Quiet, but not as before, almost as if it were crestfallen. How had she come to _that_ conclusion after her day meandering the sands of his country? "But I also know what I saw that day in the forest, Gaara." She met his gaze again, something smoldering behind her eyes, a determination and steadfast resolution. "It wasn't you."

He openly scoffed at this. " _Right_."

She didn't let his tone deter her. "It is right. If it wasn't, then you would have left me out there today, or taken any of the various open opportunities to finish the deed. But that's not _you_."

"Perhaps not anymore, but it _was_."

"No, it wasn't. It was him. People lie, and demons do too. I'm just sorry that you were lied to by _both_." She pulled up her knees and sat cross-legged on the moss, her fingers picking away at the spongy surface. "Naruto had people, you know? He had people trying to help him from an early age, but without an actual family, he was just a lonely kid who acted out a lot. But still, I know that helped him a lot growing up. Despite everything he still wanted to help people, no matter what."

"Why bother telling me this?"

"I don't know. I guess because he's the one who knew it wasn't you, I think he always knew, and I trust him."

"Even though he had no hard evidence to stand on, just a _hunch_? Even though his recklessness and competition with his team had put your life at risk?"

"Of course," she responded hastily, her eyes snapping to meet his. "He may not be my blood, but he is my family. I love him, I trust him. He may be thick headed and a loud mouth but when push comes to shove I will _always_ want him on my team, nothing changes that. And for some reason, after everything you pulled, he still advocates for you. Like I said, I trust him. If I didn't, I wouldn't have tried to get through to you today. Even if you were my only chance at making it out alive."

Gaara quieted and looked to the side, unable to look at her face anymore, at the expression that had fallen over her, and he tried to digest her words. It was okay, and that was what he had needed, to know that things between them were going to be okay. He had been worried of his actions against the rest of her team as well but figured that Naruto and Sakura were his only hopes at redemption through forgiveness, and it seemed as though his faith in Naruto had been well placed.

"It's okay, Gaara," Sakura repeated after he failed to speak. "I forgive you."

"So you…" he began, his words slipping out before he finished forming his thoughts. He paused, taking a frustrated breath before trying to continue. "So you think that people really can change?" He dared to look up at her, to better see the truth on her face if her words were to lie to him.

Sakura paused, her brow pinching together and her eyes shifting to the damp stones at his feet. She pulled her lip between her teeth and took a breath before speaking. Her voice was quiet again, but this time it was truly defeated. "I hope so." Her expression, worrisome and clouded in thought, was all Gaara needed to know that her thoughts were no longer about him, but of someone else. Her mind had left this building and this city, and he had a good hunch that she spoke of her teammate, the Uchiha. Gaara had seen that darkness in him as well, he had seen it as a challenge back then, but now he understood what a threat such a bitterness could be.

He briefly mulled over the option of pressing the question, needing more solid confirmation of her beliefs. "Do you think that _I_ can change?"

She nodded, as if his question were so dreadfully ordinary, and glanced back at him, just a flicker of that same distraction left in them as she answered him. "You already have."

How was she doing that? How was she so easily accepting him and speaking with him? How was she so easily coaxing words from him like only his siblings could? How insane did she have to be to so blindly and willingly leave herself so vulnerable around not just one, but two demon hosts? Hadn't her parents taught her self-preservation?

"I don't understand you," he admitted, muttering out his words in a more accusatory way than initially intended.

Sakura only smirked and shook her head. "Doesn't matter," she sighed. "I should get back to the hospital, shouldn't I?"

Gaara nodded, folding his arms over his chest and standing silently as she rose from the bed of moss. She stretched her arms out and slipped her feet back into her sandals. "Niko said after your checkup tomorrow you should be cleared to leave the hospital."

Sakura groaned. "Then what?"

He shrugged in response. "We must wait for word from the Leaf before deciding how to get you home. Until then, perhaps you could find something to fill your time with."

"Fine, I'll talk to Temari about it tomorrow. We can go." She picked up her folded towel and proceeded to pass him and walk through the dark hall to the back, where the showers for workers were located, and disposed of it before heading out into the chilly air of the desert night.

Gaara followed behind her, still sifting through their exchange in the greenhouse, trying to piece together the complete picture from all the parts he was given. It wasn't an easy task for someone like himself. He had been right; he didn't understand Sakura. He had expected that, even if he were to be granted forgiveness, she would have scolded him or tried to visibly bring out the guilt that had been plaguing him. But no, she had simply and quietly offered him what he had been wanting. There had been no catch, no ultimatum, and no defining clauses. Just simple forgiveness. But, almost lost in the simplicity of it all, something had changed. He had felt a weight lifted from his shoulders after the shock of her response had worn off. He felt lighter, perhaps…happier even.

They spoke no words to each other as they found the hospital, walking silently through the windy streets, and Sakura figured that Gaara had had his fill of social conversation for the night. She stood before the lobby doors when they arrived, turning to him briefly before opening them.

"Going home?"

"I'll stay here, gave Niko the night off, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, nodding once, and looking to the side. "Well, thanks, Gaara. I really appreciate everything you did for me today. I'll see you later?" she asked, glancing back at him just to see him nod and fall back into that same stoic and uninterested look he wore so well. "All right, well…goodnight, Gaara."

He nodded to her again and stayed there by the door until he saw her pass through the lobby and the dim light coming into her room illuminate the hallway as she opened the door. He could still feel that fluttering that followed her through the world, and he was confident after chasing it all day that he could pick it out like a needle in a haystack. She wouldn't risk running on his watch, she'd never get far, so he settled to leave her in peace in the hospital and took his perch on the roof. He sat in the breeze, settling himself for his meditation, and although he was many stories above, he could still feel that buzzing in the exam room on the main floor.

Gaara focused on it, on the rhythmic way that it ebbed and flowed with her breathing and her heartbeat, and drown out the rest of the world until nothing but that beating remained. He synchronized himself to that same rhythm, the closest thing he could get to sleep, and was blessed with peace and silence from that voice in his head. He allowed the feeling of that familiar signature settle over him.

It was soft, gentle, and warm. Just like she had been.

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	9. Part 9

I do not own NARUTO

* * *

Follow the Sun, Part 9

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"My, my," Temari breathed as she stepped into the hospital exam room. Lady Chiyo walked in behind her, a smirk appearing on her face as she looked over to the bed. Temari stopped next to where Sakura lay, sitting poised and proud on the stiff mattress, and she placed her hands on her hips. "Don't you look better?"

"You think?" Sakura asked, her head cocked a little to the side.

"Absolutely. I see your little field trip helped." She shot Sakura a look, a little pull of the brow and quirk of the lips to tell her that she had heard all about her little outing. She lived with Gaara after all.

Sakura smiled, as if she were proudly without regret for her actions, and nodded. "Of course, I can do wonders when I've got what I need."

"Indeed," Chiyo commented as she stepped up to the bed. She held out a hand and Sakura complied with her request. After a moment to check her pulse and a bit of chakra to test the quality of blood pumping through her veins, she nodded happily. "You seem to manage yourself well, and I've been informed on your unique talents in chakra control."

Sakura nodded again, feeling a bit of pride knowing that her true attributes were finally being noticed. "It's always been my most natural talent."

"It shows. Mind if I take a look?"

Within moments, Sakura had the blinds drawn and the lights turned off. The room was dimly lit by the light seeping past the shades, but soon the walls glowed a faint green as she pooled her chakra in her hands. Temari and Chiyo stared with silent wonder as they watched the current of energy run through her veins and pulse with her heart. Sakura smiled, seeing the look of intrigue on their faces, and slowly let the energy die back into darkness. Temari flipped the light back on and turned to Sakura with a grin.

"That was cool."

Chiyo nodded in agreement. "You have good promise _if_ you can stick it out. Tsunade will only bring out the best in you."

Sakura nodded, fully understanding the implications of her words. Going down the same road as her teacher was going to be a rough path. She would face hardships and struggles that were not so easily overcome. She had to change her thinking, adapt to a different style of life. She would need to be prepared to save a life on the battlefield one minute, and take a life the next. Medics seamlessly slipped between the boundaries of hunter and healer, ready to react at a moment's notice. Because sometimes, moments were all you had. She was going to save lives, put families back together, watch children come into the world, and be able to make a difference.

But she knew that maybe even through no fault of her own, there were some people who could not be saved. Some that would be too far gone, or too badly wounded, or just too old or too sick. That was the true weight of being a healer, to pick yourself up again after failing, so the next person that needed you wasn't left without someone to help. Some had told her that lives lost weighed heavier on the soul than lives taken. She needed to be strong.

"We've received word from Konoha," Temari said, holding up a small letter in her hand. She handed it to Sakura and grinned at the way her face lit up at the news.

Sakura took the letter, unfolding the paper, and read the words scrawled below. Tsunade's handwriting, she recognized it instantly, and it held a surprising amount of words, given how brief she cared to be with any matters of paperwork. It was addressed to Chiyo, which was strange considering that the first letter had left Suna before Chiyo had even looked in on Sakura.

" _Lady Chiyo,_

 _It has come to my attention that my student, Sakura, had been stranded in the desert due to a casualty on her assigned mission. I extend my gratitude to you and your people for giving her refuge from the elements and seeing to her health. I am sure that you have given her a personal visit. She is a curious one, you'll find out._

 _I intend to send a team to retrieve her, until then, she is to remain under the care of your city. Kakashi, Naruto, and Sasuke have insisted on running the mission, but I am sending Shikamaru and a few ANBU in case things go south on the return. They will depart for Wind country today, I expect their swift arrival by tomorrow evening._

 _All the best, and until we speak again,_

 _Hokage of the Fire; Tsunade,"_

Sakura felt a smile slowly creep across her face as she read, her heart racing with joy to know that her team had already been dispatched, currently on their way to bring her back home. It had only been a day and already it had felt too long. She pictured her team; Naruto senselessly racing on ahead while Sasuke and Kakashi strode on as usual. Shikamaru would only hold this little trip against her, but his nonchalant and inexplicably lethargic lifestyle concealed a skill and mighty wit that was a serious force to trifle with. If needed, his strategy and shadow could turn out very useful. She didn't really know what to think about Sasuke though.

She was excited to see him, of course, and after being ripped from the battlefield she had been thinking of what had happened to her team. They hadn't been in top form after that battle, and she hadn't been there to see to their injuries. Perhaps Sasuke would only view this as her fault, though maybe it was, or he might not even do much about it at all like he normally did. No cause for alarm or concern because in the end, all was well. But, as she thought back to the battle, she couldn't help but remember that hesitation to help Naruto, that moment of doubt that had almost cost his brother in arms his very head. Something dark was growing inside him, something that was getting harder to ignore, harder to explain away. Did she…want to see that again?

No matter, she had a good two days to mull over the events of that battle, and until then she needed to busy herself in the city. Two days went by very slow in the heat with nothing to do, and she wasn't very favorable of dreadful boredom.

"Thank you," Sakura said, looking from Temari to Chiyo. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. I would never have expected such hospitality."

"Don't mention it," Temari replied with a grin. "We should go grab something to eat since you're all cleared to leave. You hungry?" Sakura nodded, needing something more substantial than the hospital cafeteria food and vending machine snacks. "Good, let's go before all the good breakfast places fill up."

Sakura nodded, hopping off the stiff bed and twisting quickly to crack her back. A few pops and snaps followed her motions, a sigh of relief after that, and Sakura felt her stiffness start to fall away. She slipped on her shoes, straightened her hair as best she could and turned to Chiyo.

"Lady Chiyo," she started. "Is there any way that I could help around the hospital? If I'm to wait for my team, I'd be willing to lend my services as repayment for the care I received. I do light clinic duty at the hospitals in Konoha, or I could shadow someone, assist in some way."

Chiyo snickered and shook her head. "No, no I'm afraid not. You don't have an official title as nurse or doctor so you'd be unfit to see patients, regardless of your knowledge. Plus, in Suna, you need special permission to get a pass as a foreign doctor working in the hospital. And I'm denying you that passage. Take today to relax, you've earned it. Perhaps I can find you work in the greenhouse tomorrow when they transplant some seedlings. I'll have someone let Temari know if you're needed."

Sakura nodded, a little crestfallen after being rejected, but understood completely. Taking temperature and recording symptoms was no big deal in Konoha, but that's because of who her teacher was and the fact that she was always just a few blocks away if she were to be needed. Here, in Suna, she was a different person, one not yet fit to shoulder the care of their people. But, the greenhouse was promising. If there was one thing Sakura loved more than furthering her practice, it was the greenhouses. A little damp and always humid, but smelling richly wonderful and holding vast quantities of soft, fluffy soil to sink her hands into.

"I would be glad to help in any way, as long as I'm able." Sakura gave a bow of appreciation before looking to Temari and following her out of the room.

"So," Temari said as Sakura signed her name at the chart on the front desk, recording her official departure from the hospital. "What happened last night with Gaara?"

"What do you mean?" Sakura asked, her brow slightly pulled together in question. She set down the clipboard at the front desk and they stepped out into the sunny streets.

"Well, when he told me about the greenhouse this morning, I feel that he was leaving some things out. Care to fill in the blanks?"

Sakura shrugged, her eyes sweeping the streets and the buildings, slightly curious of the peculiar architecture. "Nothing much, really, but if that's the case then I'm guessing he didn't tell you he apologized."

"Apologized?"

"Yeah, he asked about my chakra control, I showed him, and then he just kinda blurted out that he was sorry. He's a little thick headed, isn't he? Took a bit of back and forth to get him to accept my forgiveness. I don't think he expected it."

"For what he did the last time we were in Konoha…yeah, I'd say none of us would have expected it."

"Well, we're allies now, partners. We've got to look out for one another, otherwise, everything falls apart. I don't hold anything against you, not personally at least. I'm afraid I can't say the same about some in your council, though."

"Yeah, you and most everyone else. There's word of throwing out the members that voted for the raid on the Leaf, that didn't try and go against the word of Orochimaru. But, when he's playing Kage, it's hard to say no."

Sakura nodded, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth in thought, Touchy subject, it seemed, and one best left to the people of the Wind to handle. She looked over to Temari, a smirk across her lips. "You'll figure it out. And Konoha is always there if those old fools need a kick in the right direction."

Temari laughed at this, a full-hearted laugh that brought an air of ease and content to their little stroll. Sakura smiled, happy to know that she could do her own part to mend the broken bonds of the past. Even if it were just a few perplexing souls such as this little trio of wayward siblings.

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Everyone was staring at them. Well, not so much _him_ , Gaara was used to that, but these frightful and wary stares were currently directed at his brother. After all, it always garnered the attention of a crowd whenever someone laughed at Gaara. His arms tightly wrapped around his torso, doubled over as he struggled to maintain his amusement, Kankuro had openly guffawed at his younger brother after he had sourly muttered the events of the previous evening. Now Gaara stood, entirely unamused, while his brother had his fun laughing at his expense.

"It's _not_ funny!" Gaara growled out through tight lips and clenched teeth.

Kankuro, now pretty sure that Gaara wouldn't smother him in his sleep, held up a hand to wipe the tears from his eyes. " _Yes_ ," he croaked. "Yes, it is."

"How is this supposed to be amusing?"

"Oh, come on, Gaara. How often have you really been stumped for words? Huh? Or how many times in your life have you senselessly blurted something out? My god, I would have given anything to see that." He continued to chuckle, the mental image his little brother, the mighty vessel of the demon of the sands, all confused and hopeless because of a chat with a girl. He couldn't keep himself from laughing at it.

Gaara narrowed his eyes, a scowl pulling at his face, and the others that were rallied for scouting duties for the day began to take tentative steps back. In a way, Gaara was a little grateful for his brother's whimsical outburst. This would only show his team and his peers that he was, in fact, capable of much more restraint and control over his temper than he had been before. If Kankuro lived through this, word would spread fast. "I'm growing tired of this, Kankuro," Gaara warned, his voice deep enough to just be between the two of them.

He nodded, trying to stifle the last of his chuckles as he straightened and held up his hands in defeat. "All right, all right, I'm done." He shot his little brother a crooked smirk, a little testing and clearly humored by his struggles with social aspects. "But see? I told you it would be fine, you just had to go for it. Anyone that deals with Naruto day-to-day _must_ be the forgiving type. He'd be six feet under if she wasn't, guaranteed."

Gaara looked at the ground in thought, shrugging his shoulders as to agree with his brother.

"But hey," Kankuro said, slapping a hand over Gaara's shoulder in good spirits. "It's one less thing to worry about, one less thing to let eat away at you."

Gaara rolled his eyes, though he knew his brother was right. Already he had felt that weight lifted, just one of many that still held him down, but he felt lighter none the less. His meditation had improved the night before, and he had greeted the dawn with the sensation of being well rested. It was a rare feeling for him, to be so…rejuvenated. His head always ached with lack of sleep, his joints constantly protested any strenuous work, not to mention that voice that always rattled around inside his brain, and all that only played into his temper and lack of patience. But, sitting in the dim light of the far off sunrise, he had felt all that pain melt away.

So were the fruits of a quiet mind, of an easy soul. He could get used to that.

"What do I need to do today?" Gaara replied after a moment, needing something to distract his brother from continuing to make fun of him, or worse, keep bringing up his conversation with Sakura.

Kankuro looked over the mission report he had been given by Temari before he left the house that morning. He shook his head. "Temari says you stay in the city today. With Sakura here, she thinks it'll be best to have you close by."

Gaara nodded, a little upset, but fully understanding his sister's concerns. Someone had intended to kill Sakura, and Gaara had a hunch that whoever had dropped her thought that the desert would do his dirty work for him. But she had made it out of the belly of the beast, and now that word had been sent to Konoha with her location and condition, she was still at risk for a second attack. Perhaps knowing that Gaara was on watch rested his sister's mind.

"Got it," he said, his eyes scanning to the northwest, where Sakura had first been dropped.

"Try not to get too bored while the rest of us have all the fun, okay, Gaara?" Kankuro sneered through a grin as he pulled his hood over his head. Gaara rolled his eyes again, giving his brother the nod he needed to finally go away, and waved as Kankuro left to ready for his rounds. Another two days of scouting the dunes and he would have a few days off to himself, but until then, duty called him.

Gaara, after his brother had left, departed for the main scout camp permanently on post atop the eastern walls. He would stay there most of the day, as it offered the best shaded view of the northern lands. Surely, whoever had taken Sakura from the forest would still be in the north. To go around and come up on the city from the south would have taken hundreds of miles of detour routes to avoid the scouts and outposts they had scattered out passed the Basin. That would have taken days. But, Temari had said that this enemy of Sakura's wielded the same type of transport as he did, just as quick but managed in a different way. Electrical, she had said, like the Chidori that had given him his first truly inflicted wound. He had been made to bleed for the first time because of that electrical charge, and if this stranger held the same power, only stronger and more versatile, Gaara had to be on his toes. Perhaps it wasn't so radical to think that they might try and sneak up from behind, unexpectedly, but Gaara didn't count on it.

Something on the wind from the north didn't sit well with him. It knotted his gut and weighed heavy on his heart as he set his unflinching gaze onto the sands of the horizon. There was something out there, he could feel it.

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High noon had come to the desert, the sun, always relentless and unforgiving without the relief from cloud cover, shone down on the sands below, baking the ground and sending ripples of heat through the air. Sakura grimaced as she huddled in the shade of an awning. It was a day much like the one before; hot, with hardly any wind, and she wasn't fond of the persistent weather. The only blessing she could find was that the desert was not at all as humid as her temperate home, and the lack of moisture in the air helped a great deal in staying cool in the city.

She scuffed her sandals on the ground, trying to kick out the sand that had gathered in them while she and Temari walked through the dusty streets. Their breakfast had been a much needed meal for Sakura. A hearty plater of eggs and sausage with some peculiar desert fruits and a tea made from some sort of cactus. It had actually been very good, though she hadn't expected it. But, after their meal was finished, Temari had duties to attend to. Sakura tagged along and was doing her best to stay out of Temari's way.

Sakura was growing a bit antsy, however, as she continued to meek herself into the shaded corner of the awnings. They had gone to the mission's offices, why they were outside was beyond Sakura's understanding, and the past few hours had been spent waiting for Temari to finish up. It couldn't be helped. The end of her team's run cycle was coming up, she had a lot of finalized statements and reports from her team to look through, plus her own, and then – as a new captain still under a probationary period – she would have to meet with her superior and run over all of the submitted files. She wanted to get a head start on the submissions while she still had a good full day left.

So Sakura stood out of the way, making polite off handed chats with her subordinates and anyone to happen by the offices on their way through. As the hours passed, she was surprised at how many had stopped to exchange a few words with her. It must have been the color of her hair, at least that what she kept telling herself, it made her stick out like a sore thumb amongst all of the beige. She had attracted the attention of mostly men; a little awkward and sometimes too straightforward as most young men tended to be, and the girls that passed either welcomed her with genuine interest, or snuck less than savory looks from over their shoulders. Foreigner, and it was written all over her face.

Sakura pursed her lips, tearing her eyes away from the shifting crowd of faces, and continued tapping her toes against the dirt, still trying to shake that stubborn sand loose.

"Hello."

She nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked up with a start that even took the man by surprise. She recognized him, he spoke often with Temari since she had gotten here, and she managed a nervous smile, thoroughly embarrassed with herself.

"Hi," she breathed, an apologetic look to her face. "Miller, right?"

He nodded with a shrug. "It's a nickname but…yeah, Miller."

"What's up?" she asked, trying to be nonchalant about her little jump.

Miller turned back to the offices where Temari leaned against the counter speaking with a lady and pointing to some documents she had presented in a folder. "Captain Temari says she's gonna be a while yet, told me to come over and see if you needed anything."

Sakura shrugged. "No, I'm fine. Thanks though." She smiled, her lips pulling tight into a less than sincere line across her mouth.

He nodded, looked to the ground a moment, and then back up at Sakura. "You hungry? It's been a while since breakfast, I could get you something from a good place for lunch."

Sakura eyes him wearily, her gaze flickering to Temari as she contemplated the offer. She crossed her arms over her chest, her stance solid and unmoving, and then looked to him once again, an eyebrow quirked in intrigue. She wasn't buying his offer, not yet at least. Miller put up his hands, as if showing surrender.

"It's _not_ a date, _or_ an invitation to one. Sorry, I should have assumed someone already asked."

Sakura couldn't help it, but she snorted out a chuckle. "Yeah, that's what the last guy said."

"I'm Temari's second in command!" he exclaimed, throwing a gesture to his captain. "I mean, honestly, she'd have my head if she found me fraternizing with her new favorite renegade." Sakura didn't know exactly what it had been, but she was sure that it was the way he spoke with just the right amount of sarcasm that finally won her over. Or maybe it was because all she had to do was tattle on him to Temari to turn that sarcastic comment into reality.

She shrugged. "Sure."

Miller grinned and, for a moment, Sakura was reminded of Naruto. Like him, Miller had a big grin, one that seemed to take up his whole face. "Great, it's a bit of a walk, but Temari's buying."

They strode off into the sun, boiling down on her as it had the day before, but this time it wasn't so damnable. Miller whistled over to Temari and she perked up at the sound. She waved a hand to them as they walked from the offices and they waved back.

"So," Sakura said as she stepped in line next to Miller. "Where are we heading?"

With his hands stuffed in his pockets and a leisurely saunter to his gate, he glanced over to answer her. "It's a vendor that's been selling the same food on the same corner since I was a kid. Best stuff in town, ask anyone."

"Anyone?" she questioned.

"Well…anyone who _knows_ anything," he grumbled. Yet again, all Sakura could think of was Naruto and that damn ramen stand. "But seriously," he pressed on. "That woman knows her stuff."

"What does she sell?"

"Some local specialties. For lunch," he said throwing her a devious little grin. "You're going native."

Sakura grimaced, everything about that look on his face telling her that she wasn't about to like the answer to her next question. "And, um," she said, taking a quick look around to see if she could see any food signs or markets to give her some sort of clue. "What is _native_ exactly?"

"Today, it's slow cooked gizzard stew." Miller grinned when Sakura snapped her mouth shut, her lips pulled into a deep scowl.

"Gizzard?" she asked, her voice practically pleading for it to be a joke. Maybe she'd rather be on a date. "You mean like… _guts_?"

"Part of them, yes."

"And _Temari_ wants this?" she demanded, her shock turning to downright disbelief.

He nodded readily. " _Oh_ , yes. Temari has developed a certain taste for it over the years. She had to, practically no choice."

"How so?"

"It's Gaara's favorite."

Well…that had clearly stumped her.

He nodded once before continuing. "Yeah, it is. Before Temari learned to cook it, she would always go to that same stand and get it for him, claimed it was the only way he liked it until she finally got the owner to give up the recipe. But still, nothing like that original taste. I should know, I've been going there longer than she has."

Sakura perked at this, the statement seeming a little off since, after all, Temari was a few years older than Sakura herself, and – for some reason – she hadn't given thought to the age of anyone else on her team. "Wait…how old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Oh, my god," she gasped, quickly shushing herself for the involuntary outburst.

Miller only chuckled. "I've got a young face, I know."

 **…**

They walked through the market district now, and Sakura began to have a good idea of what was in store for her as she contemplated all the sizzling food and strange smells in the air. They moved to the side of the crowd, Miller claiming to know a way around the busy market to the street of the vendor, and Sakura followed after him, cutting seamlessly through the flow of people and ducking down the side street he spoke of.

There were no shops back here, it seemed to head directly into what she could only assume was a residential street. These buildings all held a great likeness to each other, she was coming to find out. The thrumming of voices bartering and arguing behind them seemed to echo through the street as it resonated between the high buildings. Sakura, as she huddled next to the structures, was grateful for the shade once again.

"Short cut?" she questioned as she halted her tracks. Taking a look back at the busy square.

Miller nodded. He looked out to the end of the street they had taken, to where it hooked to the left and continued on their course, just a few blocks back from the market. "We'll head down to 7th, take that until Olden street, and –"

Sakura yelped sharply. The feeling of a hand fisting into her hair was followed by her head slamming against the wall to her right. She felt it impact, hard and solid against her skull, and braced against the wall for a second. She groaned, slurring out a curse at the wall, and was so thrown by the experience that she touched a hand to her head, her fingers pressed against tender flesh and a wetness she knew had to have been blood, and looked up to Miller.

His face was frozen, clear shock over his features, and his hands were held hesitantly in front of him, as if he had expected her to fall. She winced, her head suddenly filling with pressure, and in a moment of delirium spoke in a strangely mild voice.

"Did…did you just hit me?"

"What the fu–" He was cut short, and Sakura thought the pressure in her eyes had gotten the best of her.

Miller was struck down, stumbling back as his jaw cocked to the side, as if sucker punched to the face. His radio was thrown from around his neck and Sakura began to reach for him, only to feel that hand in her hair again. Her hands shot back to grab it, a purely instinctual reaction within her flushing and throbbing head, but she grabbed nothing but air. Again, her skull was slammed into the wall, twice in rapid succession until a faint gasp left her lips and she was released. For a moment, as she collapsed on the ground, her world went dark.

There was silence, no crowds, no wind, no screeching birds looking for scraps of fallen food. Wait, it wasn't _all_ silent. There was a ringing, a high pitched, nonstop ringing, and it only seemed to get louder. The ringing continued, growing louder until something else came to her ears. Rustling, like the sand that had tumbled down the sides of the dunes as she walked through desert, and it…came from behind her?

Something touched her then. She felt it, and suddenly her eyes snapped open and the ringing was truly replaced by the roar of voices in the market. She scrambled on the ground, quickly turning over to see something dark, almost like a thick vine, slithering out from under the sand and snagging her foot. She gasped, trying to kick it away but it only gripped her foot tightly and slid up and around her ankle. Her head flared with pain once again and she whimpered at the sudden spots in her vision. She looked back to Miller, to find him trying to stand from the ground.

She tried to pull her legs up to stand, but that thing only pulled back and she reached out for him as he tried to grab her. The sand offered little assistance as that vine dragged her off down the street. "Miller!" she cried after him, trying desperately to grab onto something, to dig her fingers into the dirt and slow her pace, but it was moving so fast. She tore into the market, her skin scraping along the sand and little rocks, and stinging sharply as tried to turn to her back.

It had her ankle in a death grip, even now she felt as though her bones might break, and when she tried to pool some chakra there, to strengthen herself against the pressure, it only squeezed harder and she cried out in pain. The people of the market scattered at her sides, but some unlucky few were caught in her path and toppled over as she swept their feet out from under them.

"Move! Everyone move!" Miller roared into the crowd. He cursed himself, lowering his guard like a fool and not seeing that attack coming. He scanned the crowd, looking for anything in the commotion that could be considered an enemy, and wished he had taken the opportunity to snag his radio after it was knocked from his person.

Sakura looked back to see the crowd panicking in her wake, and found that Miller was no longer distinguishable as she was jostled down the dirt road, her vision nothing but blue sky shaken with a flurry of robes and scurrying feet. He was caught in the crowd, and she was moving too quick to catch. She looked ahead again, toward the direction of her travel, and in the distance, between the fleeing civilians, she spied the walls of Suna as they broke apart for the northern gates. Her heart leapt in her chest, her stomach clenching in panic. It was taking her out of the city, back to the desert.

" _Oh, shit_ ," she cursed in a gasp. " _Miller!_ "

She cleared the market, and as she did she took a chance to snag a support pole to a street light. Her hands smacked against the metal and she winced at the impact, her fingers and her palms stinging as she struggled to pull herself forward.

She had caught those around her by surprise and, in the suddenness of the moment, they stood in shock, offering her little assistance. The vine pulled again, and she could feel it constrict and retract as though it were muscular, like a snake contorting its body. She took a breath, trying to ignore the way it felt like her foot were being squeezed off, and focused on her control. She felt her muscles pull tight in her arms, her chakra building in them like a warm buzz through her veins. She pulled forward, earning a good few inches as she tried to pull her foot from the vine.

"Miss?" one of the men standing in the street asked, clearly dazed, looking back to the bustle down the street.

She looked up at him, her lips parting as she tried to plea for help, but that vine squeezed again. Only this time, she felt something slice into her skin. She cried out at the pain, her grip on the pole giving out, and she was torn through the streets yet again. She looked down, wincing at the pain and grinding her teeth against it, and saw that the vine around her foot had sprouted spines, a good inch and a half long, that were scattered along its length. Dirt stuck to the blood dripping from the puncture wounds, and as she tried to lean forward, to try and pull the vine from her skin, it only squeezed tighter again, forcing those spines ever further into her skin.

"Ah! _Shit!_ " she seethed, looking fearfully to the gates as they loomed ever closer above the rooftops. Her eyes darted around, trying to see anything that could mean help, and dug her fingers into the ground as best as should, hoping the extra traction would give her enough time. Hoping it would give _him_ enough time.

" _Gaara!_ "

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×


	10. Part 10

I do not own NARUTO

* * *

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

Gaara sat on the northern walls, leaned back in a chair under the large awning that had been erected to better shade the camp. He sat with his elbow rested on the arm of his chair, his chin in his hand, and he slouched with boredom as he continued to scan the distance. It had been hours, and the cooler morning had given way to another afternoon heat wave under the sun. There were some clouds in the distance, wispy little things that hung high up in the atmosphere, not nearly enough to offer any shade. But even if they were bigger, with the wind as dead as it was, there was nothing to push those clouds over his way.

He sighed, for about the hundredth time since taking his seat, and wondered if his sister had planned on marooning him here for the remainder of the day. Surely, Sakura would be fine with Temari once she finished her duties at the offices, he could do as he pleased after that. Although it was nearing lunch and, since he hadn't even eaten breakfast, he was growing hungry. His conversation with his sister as she first arrived at the hospital earlier that morning was less than desirable, he still had a difficult time talking things out with people, and the topic at hand had left him without appetite. He was paying for that now. He felt his stomach turn in his gut, empty, and crying out for sustenance.

Standing from his seat, he stretched out his back and rolled his stiff shoulders before heading out of the tents. The sun was hot, unrelenting, and the afternoon heat was beginning to take its toll on all those caught under its glare. Gaara wandered to the edge of the wall, where he could look down and survey the city. Up here, to the naked eye, it wasn't much more than sandstone buildings and the little gaps between for streets. The people were small, indistinguishable, but he knew the city well enough to pick out the districts of his interest.

But, rather than in the city, something prickled in his attention behind him. Before he even fully registered the pull at his attention, the sand at his feet shifted. He turned, looking back out to the north, to the endless waves of sand that bordered the horizon. Everything still _looked_ the same, but Gaara was a man of instinct, and he always trusted his gut. He made quick steps back to the tent, throwing open the flap and laying eyes on the first person to carry a headset.

"You," he addressed with a snap of his fingers, his gaze pointing sharply on the young man standing stiffly at attention. Gaara held out a hand rather expectedly. "Give me your radio."

The man nodded, not able to say much, and quickly detangled the wire from around his ear and handed them over. Gaara nodded once and stepped back outside, securing the receiver in his ear as he cleared the channel to speak.

"This is Gaara, I need a copy from someone in the north," he spoke into the small mic, his voice collected, though he felt a little urgent. The sand at his feet vibrated, stirred, and that made him anxious.

"This is Yumi," a crackly voice spoke back. "Roko and Tris are with me."

"Have you picked up any disturbances?"

A moment later the receiver in his ear crackled sharply and a different, deeper voice spoke to him. "It's Roko, nothing up north, sir. Should there be?"

"Keep your attention on the northwest, radio me with any suspicious activity."

There was a pause, a short second that felt much too long for Gaara. The bud in his ear clicked and Yumi spoke again. "Definition of suspicious?"

"In this drought, anything."

"Copy, we'll radio anything we find."

The receiver clicked and Gaara continued scanning the sands. He glanced back to the city, something irking in his gut, and he redialed the radio's frequency to Temari's. As captain, she was on a special frequency that could be dialed into by most all of the field radios.

"Temari, copy," he spoke into the mic. There was no response, and he looked back to the city, to where the offices were hidden behind the taller buildings between them. Had she not brought her radio? "Temari," he said again, this time with more force behind his voice. "It's Gaara, do you copy?"

Gaara cringed, feeling that beast in his head as it slithered back around to look to the desert. Something was out there, undetectable to his scouts, but not to him. Not to that demon. Giving up on the radio, he focused on sending his senses down to the sand so it could ripple out into the city. He closed his eyes, steadying his breathing as he sifted through all that the sand had to tell him. He could find his sister, he'd done it like this before, and check up on Sakura as well. Possibly even get Temari's attention.

 _Wait._

A pressure at the edge of his attention caught him, and he recognized it within a moment. It was Sakura, but she was not where he had expected her to be. She was in the market, moving fast, very fast. That was strange, what could have-

 _Blood._

A shiver ran up his spine, a quake of sickly chill that left him frigid to the bone, even in this heat. That thing purred in delight, the sound echoing through his mind, and his eyes snapped open, darting across the city as he ran up to the wall. Setting sights on the nearby market, he found it in disarray and followed the scattering crowd until-

" _Miller!_ "

It was Sakura, he had barely picked out her voice from the distance but he knew it was her. He strained to see the streets, to see that flash of pink that so clearly stuck out amidst the desert, but he could see nothing. People scattered, yelled and cursed, and this only kicked up dust and sand, clouding the air and muddying his vision. He cursed, making way for the trail down the wall. He skidded down the sides, little rocks and showers of sand pouring over the steep sides in his wake, and moved as fast as he could to the ground.

She screamed then, a curdling cry that ripped through the air and carried pain and anguish with it. He followed the direction of the sound, something clenching tight in his chest as he listened, trying to catch just a glimpse of her.

He spied some movement ahead of him, something that stood out from the commotion in the streets. Dust flew into the air, throwing itself high above the heads of those wandering about, and that pressure came back, that fluttering and pulsing of life. It was Sakura, and everything about her energy clearly screamed panic. The trail was on the move, racing toward the gates, quickly closing the distance to where he planned to intercept it.

" _Gaara!_ "

He reacted within a moment, leaping over the side of the last ledge down the city's outer walls, and when he hit the ground he vanished. The sand beneath him swallowed him up and, now traveling as one with the very ground, he careened over to the gate, feeling that familiar pressure and erratic pulse as Sakura moved closer.

Just a little closer, just a few more yards and he had his chance.

Sakura didn't see the way the sand at the gates whipped up in the air and swirled quickly before dispersing around her as she passed through. The only thing she saw was the gates closing in around her and suddenly, with a great force that squeezed a pained yelp from her lips, the vine around her foot yanked hard before pulling tight. Being so scraped and stung from the rough ground, it took a moment for her to realize that she had been grabbed. She was on the ground, with arms wrapped tight around her waist, and she reached out in a desperate attempt to hold on.

Gaara took no time to relish in his swift catch before she disappeared out the gates, and skidded to the ground, digging his heels into the sand to stop her path. He was shocked to see her foot wrapped up and bloody, with that thing disappearing into the sand and out of sight, pulling hard from some unknown source. He tightened his grip, trying to pull back with his legs as he hardened the sand below his feet, securing his resistance. Sakura fisted his shirt at his shoulder, a muffled groan eking past her lips, pressed into a tight line as she scowled against the pain.

"Sakura!" It was Miller, Gaara recognized his voice in an instant, and he quickly slid to a stop by their side. He came in with a knife drawn and ready, quickly slicing through the vine before scattering back. The vine recoiled, snapping back into the sand and, try as he might, Gaara lost its trail under the ground. It was as though it disappeared, vanishing beneath the surface and ceasing to exist.

Gaara sat up, releasing the grip he had on Sakura, and helped her to sit. She sucked a breath through her teeth, the vine around her foot still contorting and squeezing as she moved.

"Take it out," she breathed, her words shaken and strained. No one moved. "Get it _off_ me!" Her true voice came out then, after Miller had only stared at the vine oozing blood from her leg and Gaara seemed to freeze at her words.

Her tone seemed to help, and Miller took his knife in hand again, stabbing through the sliced end of the vine, using the knife to peel it off. He followed its trail as it crawled around her foot and up her ankle. She tried her best to hold her little whimpers and gasps of pain as the spines were drawn from her skin. They were nasty things, curved like a talon, leaving her with puncture holes that quietly leaked blood onto the sand.

Gaara swallowed, his eyes falling on the dark pool that soaked into the ground under her foot, and his breathing quickened as if on command. A humming started in his ears, a low drone that quickly escalated into a high pitched ringing. He knew what was coming, he knew that the beast had smelled her blood, and in the sand, it could practically taste it. His jaw shook as he sucked in a breath, his world beginning to narrow, his vision tunneling and his senses prickling in response to the way that voice chuckled deeply in his mind.

 _Rip it apart...Kill her._

It took a moment, as it wasn't always easy to pull himself from the manipulation of that voice, but he did, and hastily cracked his knuckles, hoping for some reprieve from that cackle and the constant ringing in his ears. He took a breath, steadying himself, trying to slow his rapid heart, and as the real world started to come back into focus, he turned his attention back to the situation at hand. Sakura squirmed in front of him, fighting to get her belt off, and once undone she ripped it through the loops, taking it to her leg and securing a tourniquet below her knee. She pulled it tight, wincing as she did so, and this only caused more blood to seep from the wounds.

"Sakura," Miller pressed. From the sound of his voice, Gaara assumed he had missed something that had been said. " _Please_ , I insist. You can't stay here!"

"There's no time," she responded, her brow pulled together in direct concentration to her wounds. It caught Gaara by surprise, to see the way she pushed her pain aside and began immediate work on her injuries. She held that look again, that pure determination and fire and in her eyes, it was the same as the day in the forest.

She pooled chakra in her hands, the glow almost lost in the bright light of the sun, and began work on her wounds. She left the small puncture holes be, not bothering with them for the time being, and instead focused on her heel. The vine, wrapped around her ankle, had sent spikes through her heel, and when she grabbed the pole it only ripped them through her skin. She thought she had felt something slice, something snap back, and she feared the worse when she pressed her fingers to her bloody foot. Her Achilles tendon, the tendon responsible for motor function with her foot, the main component in the function of walking, had been cut.

"Oh no," she breathed, her voice shaken and quiet. She pressed chakra into the wound, flooding the tendon with it, simultaneously stopping the bleeding as she inspected the damage.

"What is it?" Miller demanded, his worry clear across his face. "Dammit, you need a _hospital_ , Sakura!"

She shot a glare back at him, his obvious lack of faith in her abilities coaxing out that temper of hers. "There's no _time!_ " she countered. "I've got to do this _now_."

With that her attention turned back to the wound, Sakura poured her chakra into it, and in a moment of relief, found that her tendon had only been cut, not severed entirely. She worked on pulling the strenuous fibers of the tendon back together, giving it a temporary fix to stop it from ripping clean apart, only then did she feel comfortable going to the hospital. She quickly wiped the hair from her face, smearing dirt and blood across her forehead, her brow pinching together, feeling gritty against her skin, and did what she could to stop the bleeding. The tourniquet helped, but she needed to calm herself, slow her heartbeat to not such a rapid pace.

Her head throbbed and she groaned, squinting her eyes shut, trying to rid her vision of those fuzzy white stars. Just a little longer and she would be done. Just a few more seconds, a little more energy, and she could leave this spot confident she'd still be able to walk.

"Almost…got it," she muttered under her breath, more so to herself than the two men around her. They stayed silent, watching in a twisted mixture of fascination and trepidation. Had they ever seen this technique so closely before? Perhaps not, and if so, then it was indeed a sight to behold.

And for Gaara, it definitely was. He couldn't find any words to describe what he was seeing other than that it was nothing short of…amazing. Under the will of her chakra, carefully guided by her hands, her flesh moved and stretched, repairing the damage of the attack. It was like she could sprout new growth from that force of energy, and in the wake of the flesh, as it mended together and smoothed into one, not a scar was left to mar her skin. Like she hadn't even been touched. A thought struck him then, and he wondered if, perhaps, _this_ was why she had been so accepting of him. She had always been meant to be a healer, it came so naturally to her, and now, seeing her work at a level far beyond her peers, there was nothing else he could see her as.

Of course, she was a healer, and he was just another in need of her healing.

"I got it," she breathed, a little smirk pulling at her lips as she completed her task. She was visibly shaken, still vibrating with adrenaline, but something about her seemed calmer, less worried. "I got it."

Gaara turned his gaze to the gates and to the desert beyond them. Something _had_ been out there, he knew it, and it was about time that he and his sister had a little talk about what to do with Sakura. He didn't look forward to this, it would mean conversations with the council and that never seemed to go well for him. But, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was no mere coincidence, and that this attack would only be the first of many if left unchecked.

Gaara stood, taking Sakura by the arm and lifting her with him. She leaned on him for some support, a hand clutching his shirt as she tested her weight on her foot. "Miller," he muttered, his eyes still stuck on the sands to the north though his voice was in no way friendly.

"Sir?"

"We will speak of this later." He shot his superior a glare, but by the way that Miller shrunk under that stare, one would not have guessed that Gaara actually answered to him. "Sakura?" he asked, turning slightly to better take in her appearance. Her calf was dripping blood, little rivulets traveled in crimson trails down her pale skin, now stained brown and black with dirt.

She perked at the sound of her name. "Hm?" she groaned back, her voice clearly straining past the pain in her voice. She looked over at him, her brow fixed together tightly, her lips pulled down in a scowl and her eyes squinted from that pressure still throbbing behind her eyes.

He still had that picture in his pocket, the one from her report, with those prideful eyes and that shallow grin. It surprised him a little, to find that he didn't like the way this person in front of him reflected that image. She had just finished with fixing herself up and now…well, now she was back at square one, except worse. "What do you need?"

She grumbled something, wobbling a bit in her stance only to be quickly steadied by Gaara's support. "I…I need someone to finish my foot," she muttered before bringing up a hand to brace her temple, her eyes squeezing tight against a sudden fire shooting through her brain. "Ugh… _Dammit_ ," she murmured, thoroughly disappointed with her lack of reaction after the hit to head. "I, uh, I need someone to look at my head…too."

Gaara nodded curtly before looking back over to Miller. "I'm taking her back to the hospital. Go find Temari and tell her to go to the tower, I'll meet her there."

Miller nodded, his eyes slipping back down to Sakura's foot, and to the vine that shriveled on the dry ground next to them. "What about _that_?" he asked, pointing to the affronting weapon.

Gaara thought for a moment, wondering just how useful it would prove to be in deciphering anything about their attacker. He nodded once, mostly to himself. "Take it to Temari, I'm not done with it yet."

Miller grimaced, clearly reluctant to pick up the vine. It continued to shrivel and twitch on occasion. He stabbed it with the end of his knife again, it squirmed and he held it at a good arm's length as he inspected it with mild interest and heavy disgust. He looked back over to Gaara and Sakura, nodding once with his departure, before heading back toward the offices.

"Ready?" Gaara asked, trying to keep Sakura from swaying too far as she suffered through the head pain.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm gonna have a killer limp though…" She slurred a little bit, probably not thinking much about what she was saying, and Gaara responded by securing his hold on her a little tighter.

"Care for the short cut?" he asked, the sand at their feet stirring and levitating as it anticipated Gaara's departure.

Sakura looked down at the soft stirring below her feet, taking a moment to appreciate how gentle it could be when he allowed, just grazing against the skin, hardly noticeable at first. She gripped his shirt, her fingers clenching the fabric tightly, and nodded. "Okay, just don't drop me."

He tried not to smirk, though her head was turned and she hadn't seen, but the statement had amused him. _Him_? _Drop_ her? "Hm," he chuckled, the sand breaking apart the ground below them, swallowing up the buildings and all of those curious stares that had accumulated to watch their exchange. An even mixture of shock and worry for the poor girl, but it seemed as though she was too preoccupied to even notice them. "Never."

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

Gaara and Temari had gone to a private meeting room to address the city's council on the recent event involving their little guest. It was a secretive room, one on the upper floors of the Kage tower, heavily guarded, and completely secure. One needed high clearance to even get on this floor, for it held official and top secret documents involving politicians, missions, and a litany of other things that the Wind nation would rather keep away from the public eye. All doors to this floor from the stairwells were locked and guarded, and even the elevators never stopped here without a special passkey. But Gaara had been here before, he had come many times when he was younger to see his father and receive his missions – or more appropriately named; death sentences. He never liked coming here, it always meant bickering and hateful stares, and this time was no different.

"I don't _care_ who she is!" exclaimed a member of the council, his hands slapping down on the table, his voice booming over the others arguing around him. "Obviously it is a danger to have her in the city!"

"What?" Temari gaped at the man. "A _danger_?"

" _You_ saw what happened in the market!" he jeered, pointing an accusing finger over to Miller. He stood straight for his high council member but had a sourness to his features that didn't quite dull. "You were attacked because of her!"

"Not because of _her_ ," Miller answered, his voice straining to stay level. "Because of my own _choice_ to be close to her. Had she been on her own she might not have been caught."

"Still," another man spoke, his voice gravelly with age. "You cannot ignore that the presence of a crowd had not deterred this terrorist one bit." He folded his hands together on the table, leaning forward in thought. "Perhaps it _is_ best to get her away from the populous."

"I can't believe this," Temari breathed, taking a quick glance to Gaara and finding him standing to the side of the room, observing the council with a scowl on his face. "Can you hear yourselves?" she demanded, her gaze turning hard on the members of the council. "If Chiyo were here you would listen to reason! She is the _Hokage's apprentice_! The woman practically views her as a national treasure and you're speaking of throwing her out to the wolves!"

"Her misfortune does not dictate the safety of our people!"

" _Our people_ are in no danger! _Sakura_ is the one on the line!" she countered, her voice threatening to break into a cursing rage.

Gaara watched his sister, knowing full well why she had become so worked up. Though he hadn't been present for them, and neither had she, these were the same types of discussions these old men used to have about Gaara, and probably still did. What to do with him, how to distance themselves from him, how to leave him to rot. She didn't have a voice in any of those matters back then, but she did now, and she intended to use it.

"Temari," he spoke, his low voice familiar enough for her to catch in the noisy room.

She looked over at him, an echo of that fire still burning in her eyes and frustrated worry on her face. His look, though blank and seemingly expressionless, was clear to her. She needed to calm down. She couldn't get this worked up advocating for a foreigner when their own people had been caught in the middle. She took a breath, as if to say something, but quickly thought better of it and only nodded.

Gaara stepped forward then, pushing himself off the wall and coming to stand next to the table by his sister. His presence still commanded the attention of those around him, even if he chose to be more subtle these days. "Temari is right," he said, his voice solid and steadfast in his opinion. "With someone so close to the Hokage, we must take account of all possible repercussions of our actions with her. Even with protection, a whole battalion even, who's to say she's safe out in the desert? Whatever grabbed her evaded even my detection until it was already in the city, and it has evaded me before. No one you send with would be able to see it coming, you'd be sending her to her death."

"That's right!" Temari agreed, her eyes skimming over the perturbed faces of the council. "Not to mention how that would look to Tsunade."

A man at the council sighed, rubbing his face into his hands with clear exhaustion with his fellow council. He was a younger member, one of a few who had been recently appointed, and he didn't care much for the stubborn views of his elders. "Then what do you suggest, Temari?"

Temari straightened, her shoulders shifting back to expose a proud and confident chin. "She stays with us," she said, her voice sure and nearly stubborn sounding in her resolve. Gaara threw her a quick glance, his eyes a little wide.

"Done," the man said, throwing his hands in a sign of defeat. "If you wish to take it on, then it's your responsibility," he spoke, turning his eyes suggestively toward her before speaking again, in a low, serious tone. " _Captain_."

"What?" roared the man to his side. "How can you let this just slide by? Surely she's not capable of –"

" _Excuse_ me?" Temari demanded, her normally smooth voice booming angrily over the chattering men. They hushed, clearly dazed at the tone in her voice as she addressed them. "We are our _father's_ children. The _prodigies_ of the late Kazekage and throughout our whole lives we have been trained as such. By looking at my family you look at three of the strongest shinobi in your military and you dare say that we are _incapable?!"_ She scoffed, sneering her words across the table. "There is no safer place in this entire _country_ than within my home, and that is where she stays."

Gaara, a little surprised and a little proud of the way she had yelled her scornful passions to the council, hesitated a moment before speaking. "But, Temari, are you –"

"Am I what? _Serious_?" she demanded, thoroughly throwing her little brother for a loop at the way she glared at him. It was a look he hadn't often seen throughout his life, not directed at him at least. "Of course I am! Where could you possibly put her that would be any safer than in our home? The _dungeons_? Do _you_ want to be the one to tell her she's got to spend the night down there? Cause I sure as hell don't!"

"Of course not, but –"

"Gaara, it'll be fine. Today was too close a call to risk anything for the sake of your comfort. For the sake of _anyone's_ comfort," she concluded, turning her gaze to the table of men, deeply wishing that Chiyo had gone to council with her, to help her against the stubborn ways of the board. But she was needed with Sakura, Gaara had said that her ankle had been badly injured, there had been scattered talk of her not healing properly. She took a breath to steady herself, to calm her nerves and settle her anger. "Regardless," she muttered, her voice quiet now. "We've got less than 48 hours until her team comes for her. Until then, she is _our_ responsibility, under _our_ care. When we took her to the hospital, when we sent that first letter off to the Leaf, _that's_ what we agreed to. We've already betrayed that trust once, let's not make it personal this time."

Gaara thinned his lips, mulling around the reasoning of his sister, and found that he couldn't combat them. She was right. "Very well," Gaara said, taking a glance over to her before looking back to the council. "Sakura stays with us."

"We'll bring the whole damn hospital room home if we have to," Temari said, her hard eyes daring someone to challenge her. These were men of politics, not men of battle, and she was very confident in her ability to beat almost everyone in the room to a pulp. Plus, having Gaara there to stand in her corner always worked as a good deterrent. And he did just that. He stood there, arms crossed in stubborn resolve toward his sister's conviction, and his expression showed it. There weren't many that dared to defy him when he wore this look. During his younger years, doing such had been deemed…unwise.

The men grumbled between themselves, mumbling their words under quiet breath before agreeing to her terms.

"Fine," they agreed. "But, if anything happens, this will be on your head, Temari."

She nodded, fully willing to shoulder that responsibility. "I understand."

With that, the men at the table waved their dismissal and she and Gaara left the room. They stepped slowly down the hall, Temari clearly lost in thought over what to do about Sakura, what could happen, what could go wrong. "Are you sure about this?" Gaara asked. "If anything goes wrong, it could ruin your chances of ever being a captain again."

She nodded, her brow pulling together in thought before sending him a hopeful half-smile. "Of course I'm sure," she said, her voice quiet as they walked to the stairwell down the empty hall. "I've got you in my corner, don't I?"

He nodded back, looking back ahead toward the door. He wasn't very good with sentiments, even worse at expressing himself, but he knew that Temari took these little inches he gave and interpreted them as miles. He didn't have to tell her that he was going to do everything in his power to protect her position, to defend her decisions as his captain. But more so than that, she knew that he would destroy anyone who posed a threat to his sister, and in this case, that included anyone that posed a threat to Sakura as well.

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	11. Part 11

I do not own NARUTO

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"Are you sure?" Sakura asked as Temari helped her hobble through the threshold of her home. Chiyo had managed to repair the tendon in her foot since Sakura's quick actions staved off any permanent damage, but until she could rebuild the strength of the healed tissue, she had to wear a light brace and it gave her quite the limp.

"Of course," Temari said, brushing off the worry on Sakura's face. She helped her over to the couch, kicking any extra shoes or thrown clothing out of the way so she didn't trip, and gave her a kind smile after she successfully sat down. "You'll be just fine. It's either here or the hospital, and I figured you'd rather have a real bed."

Sakura shrugged and nodded. "I suppose. I just don't want to impose at all."

"Oh! Please," Temari seemed to scold in her direction. "Stop that, it was my idea anyway."

Sakura thinned her lips, watching as Temari scurried about to quickly tidy up their living room. There was no real need, Sakura knew they were all busy people who probably spent very little time here. A cluttered house was a lived-in house, it made it more so a home. "Still," she said, trying to quickly catch Temari's attention as she swooped in to straighten the shoes by the door. "I can't help but feel like a bit of a burden."

Kankuro, who had returned from his scouting to find Gaara and Temari practically in fits with the council, laughed from where he sat next to Sakura on the couch. "Nonsense," he chuckled. "It's nothing, trust me. Babysitting you will a breeze comparatively."

Sakura quirked an eyebrow, a little put off by his choice of words. "Compared to what, exactly?"

He shrugged in response. "Babysitting Gaara. At least I can assume that you'll actually listen." Temari stifled a chuckle, it was true after all. They had been assigned to keep watch over him or keep him in line before and it…it never seemed to go their way.

Sakura sighed, shaking her head. "I _hardly_ think he needs babysitting. But speaking of, where is Gaara?"

Temari plopped down on the chair next to the couch and flipped open her thick folder of reports. All of this paperwork happened to be about Sakura, it always required extra documents when pertaining to foreigners, and Sakura – feeling a little bad for piling on to her work load – offered to help as much as she could. "He didn't want to take any chances so he left straight for the lookout posts on the wall. He took that vine that snagged you and is using that to track any signature that matches it."

"He can do that?" Sakura asked, taking some simple report sheets and filing in things like dates and times and settings of the events.

Temari nodded, almost rolling her eyes as she did so. "No joke, the guy's like a bloodhound." She shrugged after that, her eyes falling back to the papers on her lap. "But you probably knew that. It's not just anyone that can follow a chakra trail after it's dead, or react quick enough to keep you within the city walls."

Sakura looked down to her foot, to the indignant brace holding it stiff and tight. She pursed her lips, thinking over Temari's words and her own experiences. If it hadn't been for Gaara's successful grab, she would have been miles away in no time flat, then she really would have been in trouble. She had been hoping that he would stop at home, so she could have a chance to better thank him for his quick actions. But, it seemed as though she would have to wait.

"How was the hospital?" Kankuro asked, taking a glance to the brace around Sakura's ankle as he did so.

"All right, I suppose," Sakura answered. "Though, Lady Chiyo was not happy to see me under the circumstances, or so soon." She tapped her heel against the ground, the only thing she could really do with it since the brace refused to let it move an inch. "But, as long as I don't mess with it too much, and go back for a checkup before I leave, I should retain full motor function. Still, it was a close call."

Kankuro nodded, looking over to Temari for a moment to find her brow pulled together in worry. She had clearly invested a little more in Sakura than she had probably intended, and in doing such, gave herself the perfect position to take all of this personally. She was a friend of the poor girl now and had brought her into their home in an attempt to keep her safe. He had expected something like this, after all that guilt, all that worrying, it would have been hard to keep herself from caring on a personal level. Far from Sakura's knowledge, Temari wasn't one to offer sanctuary in her personal space, that's what their government took care of, and being accepted through their front door would have been enough to turn heads all the way down the street. But he kept silent on the matter, not wanting to add any more weight onto the situation.

It seemed Sakura felt bad enough as it was.

He looked out the window, tuning out the sounds of his sister and their guest as his eyes found the high walls of their city. It was getting dark over the desert, and somewhere out there, Gaara was bunkering down for a night on watch.

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Dusk.

Gaara had always liked this time of day. So serene, so tranquil and…beautiful. It was one of the few things that he had always thought was beautiful, even in his darkest of days. The sun, no longer a harsh white and blinding in its glare, had sunk lower in the horizon, those rays of light cutting through the lower atmosphere and turning golden and soft.

The way this reflected on the sand always caused a moment of pause within him. After all, the desert was his home and to him, as well as his people, it was indeed beautiful. The sands shown like a sea of gold, molten and shimmering in the warm glow of the setting sun. It was at this time, and again after the sun raced around the earth to rise once more in the east, that the desert showed its true colors. The gradient sky grew darker as it reached from the horizon, a smooth scale from the golden sun to dark purple skies with little specks of stars and planets twinkling through the remaining light. There were no trees to break the landscape, no mountains to border the sky and, in its own right, the simplistic beauty of the desert – like the elegance and poise of a dignified woman – was enough to melt even the coldest of souls.

In moments like this, Gaara often wondered if maybe he had indeed been in love his whole life, a clandestine affair with a sense of peace that wasn't meant for him but was just too naïve to put a name to the feeling. There weren't many times he could recall where he had been able to touch beauty, of any sort, but the desert, _his_ desert; bewitching and mysterious as she was, never shunned him. Somewhere inside of him, somewhere deep and quiet, he had always thought that one day, maybe even decades from now, he would just walk into those timeless dunes and never come back again.

He'd be okay with that.

But such fantasies of peaceful seclusion were only clouding his mind. He couldn't think of leaving civilization behind for the promises of the open desert, he had a job to do. The scene in the distance, the earth's curve swallowing up the sun, was beautiful, but it was also distracting. He had his senses in the sand, feeling the way the ground hushed and quieted after the soldiers and scouts returned to the city for the night.

Gaara had moved away from the city, intent on stopping anything suspicious in its tracks before ever breaking the city limits. He was alone out here, not a soul for miles and miles around, and he hoped it stayed that way. With this enemy of Sakura's being capable of such evasiveness, Gaara hadn't taken anyone with him and it was as much for his own sake as it was for theirs. This way, should he fail to detect any threat, no one would be caught in the middle because of his lack of action. If this stranger _did_ come, however, Gaara would be alone with them. No one around to see him fight, to see him kill another person, no matter how wicked they may be. He would only trust his siblings out here with him, but they were needed with the city, with Sakura, and he figured it was better this way.

Earlier, before he had started off for the endless waves of sand, he had taken his gourd and used the sand within to shred that vine. In a sense, that personal stash that always followed him could drink in the energy of the signature, and it had an uncanny memory. Even when Gaara overlooked or didn't notice, that sand always did.

So now, with the echoes of that signature still rattling around, fresh in his memory, he watched the sands for anything that reflected the energy. Though he didn't wish for Sakura to be in any danger, he couldn't ignore the way his body twitched with the sense of an impending battle. Whoever was out there – biding their time, waiting for the opportune moment to strike – they were going to have to get though Gaara first. The monster in his head purred in delight, the promise of spilled blood stirring it to attention, and Gaara felt no need to try and subdue the creature. This was an enemy, after all, and there was no need for leniency with the likes of them.

 _Soon_ …

Yes, that was right. He didn't know how, or why, but he knew that voice was right. He could feel the anticipation start to prickle on his skin, tingle in his blood, and rather than fight it off, he let that beast sharpen his eyes, his hearing, all of his senses.

There weren't many that knew this was how the beast affected him on a day to day basis, but when it chose to, and when Gaara allowed, it could turn his senses into something almost…inhuman. His world came in sharp and crisp, the horizon wasn't so fuzzy, the air held much more than just dry sand in its scent, and he could faintly hear the way that grain tumbled over grain as he shifted his weight on the sand. A chirp in the distance snapped his eyes to attention, it was only a lonely cricket out from the sand to enjoy the cool air, though it stood out like a siren compared to the quiet dunes around him. Gaara took a breath, steadying himself and resting his heart rate, settling his nerves and quieting his mind. The sand below him stirred, shifting across the dunes in wide waves, like ripples over a shallow shoreline. The dune hollowed out below him, and as the sand rose, sweeping up and swirling in the air, he dissipated into the flurry. The sand settled back down into the dune and he became one with the land around him.

This would to him well. Hiding in plain sight like this always fooled the naked eye, and down here, with the quiet rumbles of tumbling sand and the deep moans of shifting dunes, it was like the land spoke to him in their own secret language. It would tell him when his target came.

He just had to be patient.

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It was dark, at least, it had been. But now, after lying there, tossing and turning in an attempt to rest, Sakura had adjusted to the darkness in the quiet room, and now the pale moonlight that slipped through the window illuminated the small guest room. It was a dull and soft glow, turning everything a curious shade of blue. She had gone to bed a while ago, what felt to be hours even though she knew that it wasn't, and had been trying to sleep ever since. But…how could she?

This was not her home, this was not her bed, there was no little weight curled up by her feet where her clumsy tabby would always sleep, and unlike her many missions containing nights spent in the woods, there was no pressing need for a quick rest before getting back on the trail. _Try and relax,_ Temari had said. _Don't worry about a thing_. How the hell was she supposed to do that? She couldn't trick herself into that quick and deep fall from consciousness to lights out, not with this soft mattress contouring to her every curve. So unlike that stiff hospital bed. The blankets she had pulled over her, soft and lightweight but with just enough to keep one warm on these summer nights in the desert, didn't scratch at her skin like the wool cloaks and throws that they carried in the field, and something about these comforts she had been given only seemed to keep her senses buzzing.

This was a strange place, and more so than that, it was a strange home. Sakura laid on her back, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the house she had walked in to. It was an odd thought, to know that in one of these rooms the mighty Kazekage had laid his head. Even stranger was to think that he had been married, sharing a bed with his wife, who he must have fallen for at some point, been in love with at some point. So in love as to have three children. In this house, she had walked with a belly swollen with new life on three separate occasions. In this house, she had sat in some chair and taught Temari to read, watched Kankuro struggle to properly drink from a cup, and pondered the many years she thought she would have with her youngest son.

But also, within the walls of this house, a family had grieved. A daughter had fought to stay strong, a son had watched with bewildered confusion as mommy vanished, and a father – a husband – damned himself to a life rotting in regret. These halls had lost the echo of motherly feet, the kitchen had lost the scent of cookies and early breakfasts, the chair in the living room wasn't for reading anymore, it wasn't for stories or laughter anymore. The light had left this place. And in the absence of that light, the house creaked and moaned its mournful lament in the night, the howling wind of the desert echoing through the empty halls like specters.

How could she sleep here? There were so many secrets that these walls held, some she knew while others were meant to stay buried, it was like they were brimming with scandalous truth. They had seen so much, seen the way a family had been built, how it had been broken down, how it had almost been destroyed.

Her own home was still warm, it still smelled like cookies and pancakes, it still echoed with her mother's laugh and her father's curses as he struggled to be a handyman. This harsh comparison, this sense of being torn between two polar opposites, it made her heart ache, a deep and throbbing ache that seemed to touch her soul. Temari had gotten a taste of what Sakura had been blessed with, Kankuro had been too young to understand, but Gaara had never even known. He never had the chance to know. And it had been _him_ they had blamed for that. Like Naruto, he had been shunned and scorned because of what others had done to him, because of what others had made him into. A helpless child, a mere baby, given the burden of unimaginable power and untamable destruction. What had they expected?

Sakura scowled, hearing a creak in the room down the hall, and turned her mind from her melancholy ramblings. She sat up, throwing the covers off her legs and giving her scalp a good scratch, tossing her hair around as she did. Looking out the window, to where the wind moaned and howled, invisible in the night, she craned her neck to try and see the stars. She wasn't going to be getting sleep anytime soon, this alien world was hard to familiarize herself with, and such relaxation would only continue to evade her. Plus, how could she quiet her mind when she knew that Gaara was out there, just waiting to come across her attacker? It was impossible not to think of him, he had gone off on his own and his family insisted it was fine, that he did this all the time, but she couldn't shake the worry. He was out there because of her, after all, and that always weighted her shoulders with guilt.

She looked down at her brace and pondered how it might challenge her to take a shower with it on. It was stiff, but the material itself was strong and this allowed it to wrap around her foot while taking up minimal space. Tight as all hell, but easily managed by herself as long as she didn't trip and cause a panic in the house.

She got off the bed, careful not to thump the floor too hard with her brace, and peaked her head out the door. The hallway was dark, no lights from under any doors, and she slowly made her way down the hall. The bathroom door creaked a little as she opened it and she tried to shut it as quickly and as quietly as she could. Once inside, she felt the wall for the light switch and yelped a bit when the lights flashed on. Rubbing her eyes, a little annoyed with herself over staring at the light when she flicked the switch, she tried to blink away the stars. It was a large bathroom. With a big counter, two sinks, and a bigger tub than her own at home. She rather quickly decided against a shower and opted for a bath. She could just keep her foot out of the water that way.

She turned the knob for the water and the tub began to fill. It steamed after a moment, pumping out hot water and fogging up the mirrors. Her sleeping shorts slipped to the floor, followed by the tank top that Temari had lent her. With a folded towel beneath her, she sat on the side of the tub waiting for the water to fill, staring at her foot again. She could have had it a lot worse, and she'd been telling herself that all day, it was only because of Gaara that she had managed so far out here. She was grateful – immensely so – and she now understood why Naruto had given him so much of that blind faith of his.

She smiled a little as she stared at her foot, thinking of how pleased Naruto was going to be when he finally got to Suna. He would demand to hear everything, probably wouldn't even give her a moment of peace, but he would be happy to know how Gaara had helped her, how he had tried to make things right between them. Hell, he had saved her life. Maybe this would even change Sasuke's opinion of him, maybe he would learn to trust their allies again. That would be good. They needed more trust. _Sasuke_ needed more trust.

The tub filled and she stopped the water. Slipping beneath the surface, she let herself sink into the hot water, sighing in pleasant content as she laid back and soaked herself. She resigned herself to the therapy of the water, trying to shut off her thoughts and just relax. Like Temari had told her to.

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	12. Part 12

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In hindsight, it truly hadn't been long. Maybe a good two hours, hardly anything compared to how long he had expected, and Gaara felt that he was no longer alone out in the open desert. The quiet shifting of the sand, like the babbling of a brook, had been interrupted. The tumble of grain over grain, the lulling rhythm of the granulated sea, it all came to an abrupt halt when the low hiss started to echo through his mind. He hadn't even felt the pressure at first, hadn't even noticed any disturbance, but that beast in his mind had been looking for trouble.

And trouble it found.

Seven miles out, at his 2 o'clock to the northeast, something was stirring his sands. The entity took their time as they approached, strolling leisurely over the dunes as it made way for the city. Gaara tracked the steps, growing stronger as they marched forward. They were walking alone, not another life detectable for miles around. Confidence, he figured, and it perturbed him. Where they so confident in their ability to cross the city lines? Or was it something else?

He intended to find out.

Setting off, he slithered through the sand as he closed the distance between him and his target, keeping a good berth between them as not to startle his prey. He wanted a better gauge on this man, he wanted to size him up a bit before going in head first as per usual. This man had evaded his detection when he abandoned Sakura to the desert, and he had nearly evaded him again during the attempt to drag her from the city, so some caution needed to be maintained. It was a bold move, attacking a crowded populous during midday, and it had definitely caught the city's attention. In that rather simple attack they had managed to stir the council, and if it hadn't been for the fact that Gaara was a natural deterrent, they would have turned on Sakura in an instant. Temari had been right, that wouldn't have given them the best reputation given their current foreign affairs.

But Gaara understood the mindset, he knew the train of thought. If one could disband alliances, create havoc between countries and between peoples, the world practically became ripe for the taking. Taking out Sakura would not only serve some predetermined propose with Sasuke – something, he had to admit, that he cared rather little about – but would also create a rift between the Hokage and the Suna council. Such a rift could bring about halts in trade or in travel, severely cutting off the litany of foreign goods that the people of the desert had become dependent upon, not to mention the external trade that brought them so much revenue. After that, who's to say what measures would be taken? He himself was physical proof of the lack of limitations the government had set in line for those in power to follow, he could only imagine what would happen if it came to war…again.

He could have scoffed at all this really. All because Sakura had been on that mission. Anyone else and it wouldn't have become such a national matter, any other random scout or grunt sent along with the rest of them and it all could have been avoided. But no, Sakura was there, and she was close to Sasuke, making her a target. She was also very close to the Hokage, making her a matter of national security. It had all escalated far too much and far too quickly for his own tastes.

And now it had brought him here, after having absolutely nothing to do with what had transpired after their ambush in the forest, it had still somehow reached all the way back to him. And for once he had actually been behaving himself. But he wasn't about to push away his plateful of shit, he would deal with it instead. If his council was going to be stubborn and selfish when it came to offering Sakura sanctuary, he would simply show Tsunade the extent of Suna's potential hospitality himself.

He had stopped in his advance, taking a moment to drink in the pulsing signature radiating from his target. The man was strong, a worthy foe if he had ever come across one, but not one he deemed too much of a threat to himself. After his fight with Lee and Naruto, he had taken to not underestimating his opponents, or more importantly, assuming no one else had a trick up their sleeve more shocking than his own. After all, if it hadn't been for Lee's speed their fight would have been over much quicker, _before_ the use of his true physical strength came out to play. And Naruto, well, if he were honest, Gaara hadn't even known people were capable of such stamina and endurance for battle. Naruto had simply worn him thin, left him with nothing, but that was still every bit of a defeat.

He would not underestimate this man the same way.

But the man had stopped, his feet halting on the sand and he seemed to simply wait. No matter, Gaara figured he wouldn't remain undetected for long, and had seen all he wished to. Within a moment, earning not even the slightest bit of reaction from his target, Gaara materialized above the dunes. He stood at a healthy distance away, being a more long range in his attacks, and didn't give his opponent the satisfaction of getting a quick jump on him. The man was tall, broad in the shoulders and seemed to be twice Gaara's weight given all his muscle. But those things didn't detour Gaara, not in the slightest. Instead, he studied the way the man hadn't even flinched at his appearance, in fact, he seemed to have been waiting for him. _That_ might have detoured him. After all, awaiting a fight with the likes of him weren't the actions of a _well-minded_ individual.

He wore a cloak, traditional and plain like most of the scouting parties wore, and had his face covered in a wrapped scarf and tinted goggles. They weren't needed, there was hardly any wind over the quiet desert and the waxing moon wasn't nearly blinding as it shown overhead. It had been purposeful, intent on hiding his appearance, his identity, but Gaara didn't need a name or a face to know who had wandered across his path.

"Gaara," the man spoke in way of a greeting, suddenly breaking the silence that stretched between them. His voice was lower, a little more menacing coming from a hidden face. "How nice of you to join me all the way out here."

"Leave my country," he responded, giving the man no time for further pleasantries. His face hardened and his eyes glared down at the figure as they seemed to sigh, behaving far too casually for Gaara's liking.

"But I'm here on business," he countered, just the slightest bit of a pout pulling at his voice.

"So I've noticed."

The man shrugged, taking a casual step forward. "I would have finished up earlier today but I'm afraid I was interrupted," he continued. Only this time, as the reflective plastic of his tinted goggles moved his way, Gaara felt the eyes behind them. Or more so the enmity. "Such a shame, it's hard work to project oneself out of their physical body. Then your partner had to go ahead and cut me…well, not _me_ , but it still hurt, you know?"

"Quite the inconvenience, I'm sure," Gaara replied, restraining from snapping back at the man as his voice struggled to stay even.

The man shrugged in return, taking a look down at his hand as he did so. "Though," he sighed, his voice almost fondly reminiscent. "Smashing that little skull of hers did seem to make it worth the all the trouble. Certain _crunches_ can sound so satisfying. Ah," he snickered. "But I'm sure you remember."

Gaara chose not to respond. Instead, he let that bubbly feeling rising in his chest take over, let it flood his lungs and his blood as the beast in his mind sharpened him and hardened him for the fight that was to ensue. Gaara could hear the man's breathing, he could hear his heartbeat – slow and steady, not at all worried. But that would change, given enough time that rhythmic thumping would go quiet.

"You could have just let her slip passed, you know," the man spoke again, his voice smooth and suggestive as he eyed Gaara. "Or simply let me pass you by. I only ask for an hour within your city, just enough time to slip in and slip out."

"And kill her in the interim, I'm familiar with your goal."

"But of course," he agreed hastily. "You are familiar with the hunt, are you not? She's injured, cornered, and getting so deliciously frantic. You remember how fun that can be, don't you?" He smirked then, even behind the mask of the scarf Gaara could tell by the little chuckle that followed his slight movements. "Don't worry, I fully intend to keep it quiet, else we start a panic in the streets."

Gaara crossed his arms over his chest, his brow pulled together in skepticism. "No," he stated, causing the man a moment of pause. "You will do no such thing. You intend to breach my city disguised as one of my own and murder a defenseless refugee in her bed. The city, the council, they will view it as an attack by a radical of my own soil, and it is my people who will pay the consequences for her death. Regardless of Sakura herself, I can't allow you to do that."

The man paused, looking over Gaara as if sizing him up, and he seemed perplexed for a moment. Surely he had heard of Gaara's reputation before, most people had in some way, and perhaps he was trying to pair the reputation to the person standing before him. Gaara was shorter than most his age and, given the nature of his abilities, he had never had to bulk up in terms of muscle mass. But what he lacked in a threatening physical appearance he more than made up for in other areas, as this man was to soon find out.

"Don't stand in my way, boy," the man warned, the casual nature of his tone chilling over at a moment's notice, turning hard and predatory in the cool air between them. "It is to be considered a most unwise choice."

Gaara nearly sighed at this but kept his composure solid and unmoving. There was that moronic cocksure confidence again, but for a moment, Gaara was reminded of himself. He had been just the same; never entertaining the thought of being defeated, only having a challenge every now and again. It was that arrogance that caused him to think he could overthrow a city, he could take it all and return from that fire and bloodshed unscathed, unmarred. But he had been wrong, and he had his damaged pride, courtesy of Naruto and Lee, and a nasty new scar on his shoulder from Sasuke as a reminder of the potential dangers of such an ego. It was a lesson he wouldn't soon forget, and one he would soon teach this man well.

At this thought, Gaara smirked; a crooked grin that pulled at his lips and shifted his face into a mask most others tried hard to forget. It wasn't often that he smiled like this, not anymore at least, but he figured that he'd been good long enough. A low chuckle seeped past his lips, chilling to the bone, and he bore his gaze through those tinted plastic shades. "Unwise, huh? Funny," he muttered darkly to himself. "They say the same thing about me."

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Stuffy.

That's what it was. The humidity of the bathroom had made her all stuffy. She felt like she was sitting in a literal sauna. But given the ache of her muscles and the constant feeling of caked dirt thanks to all the dust and sand, Sakura didn't necessarily mind the steam fogging up the mirror or shifting in a lazy haze under the dim bathroom light. She hadn't bothered with the fan, not wanting to make too much noise and rouse Temari and Kankuro. She was positive they were fast asleep by now. With a rag lathered in soap and her hair pulled up and away from her neck, she washed herself of the day's dirt. It was a thin film of brown that seemed as much a part of life in the desert as the clouds of spring pollen were in the forest. Coating everything in sight and carrying for miles on the slightest breeze.

It felt good to free her pores to breathe as they were intended.

But her bath water had gone lukewarm at best and, begrudgingly, she leaned forward to lift the plug to the drain. She got out of the tub, a little precariously thanks to her brace that she intended to keep as dry as possible, and grabbed a clean towel. Feeling fresh and clean once again, she rubbed the fluffy cotton over her skin and did her best to pat dry the damp hair at the base of her neck. She sighed, contently, and basked in the sensation of being properly cleaned.

Slipping on her shorts and tank top, she flipped off the light before opening the bathroom door, not wishing to flood the dark hallway with sudden light. Creeping down the hall, with as much skill as her training had given her, she moved silently across the old floors, creaking ever so softly underfoot. Her destination, however, was not back to the strange room where sleep had continued to evade her. It was instead back to the downstairs. While sitting in the living room, preparing to make the trek upstairs, she had glimpsed a sliding glass door that appeared to overlook a back patio, or possibly a garden. She couldn't tell, the setting sun had cast tricky shadows and the drawn curtain had obstructed her view. But maybe by stepping outside and getting some fresh air, she could relax enough to find some sleep for the night.

At the bottom of the stairs, she was greeted by a faint bluish glow. The dim moonlight filtering through the curtains gave the room just enough light to find one's way through the darkness. She made her way to the sliding door, pulling back the curtain just a bit to peer out.

The moon was floating high in the sky, unopposed by clouds and outshining many of the stars that clustered near it. It bathed the back patio in pale light and beckoned her out into the dry, cooling world. She flipped the lock, sliding the door back as quietly as she could, and slipped out into the night before putting the door back in place. She felt silly for sneaking around as if she were trying to escape her room for a night with her friends. But, this was a house of ninja, and she would rather not underestimate their instincts or abilities to be quickly roused by foreign noises.

She stood with bare feet on the grainy stone, covered with a light dusting of loose sand, and hugged her arms around herself, surprised at how much the temperature dropped without the heat of the sun. The air was dry with no humidity to hold some of the leftover warmth of the evening, and it raised goosebumps on her skin. With a light breeze ghosting silently through the gated backyard, the night was quiet and seemed to whisper and sigh, nothing like the haunting moans and hollow whining through the halls as it had sounded inside. It was more peaceful out in the night air.

Perhaps, she wondered, that's why Gaara always spent his lonesome and endlessly long nights away from home. What good was his room other than for storage? What comfort did it offer him other than solitude? And was that even a comfort? After so much of it for so long, it may have just as easily turned from comfort to curse. But in the open night, with the endless landscape swallowing the horizon, somehow it felt less lonely than a small room with only one's self for company. Out here, there were the stars that shined and the moon that glowed, the winds that whispered secrets and the grains that tumbled gently over weary feet.

She hadn't really understood it much before, but the longer she paused to drink in the land around her, the more she quieted her mind and listened to the language of the wild out here – one she had never been taught and was so dreadfully foreign to her – the more she came to understand the true beauty of the desert. Truly, it was stunning in its own right, and it was indeed growing on her.

She stepped from the patio and sunk her toes into the shallow sand of the backyard. There had been a garden out here, as she had assumed, and it was a rocky thing, with small boulders dividing separate tiers and small pebbles scattered around cactuses and different trees of the palm variety. With long and smooth leaves, most coming to a sharp point at the end, spewing off in different directions, flaking trunks, and frayed fibers sticking out every which way, the overall look of the garden spoke volumes of how life in the desert had become hard and tough against the elements. As had the people; weathered and perpetually sun-kissed, yet strong and resilient by their most basic nature.

For a moment, Sakura truly envied them, wondering if perhaps she would have grown stronger if she hadn't had the softness of grass between her toes, or the gentle babble of streams to splash her feet in. Maybe even the sweet scent of the flowering forest, with silky soft buds of every color, had given her a sense of softness that hadn't been meant for the life she had chosen while still so young. It was often that she wondered if it had been the right choice, or if she had been mistaken since the beginning.

Her eyes were drawn to a sudden burst of color, a blob of bright red, evident even in the paleness of the moonlight. She approached and leaned down to inspect a bushel of barrel cactuses. Stout little things, staying true to their given name, and seemingly frosted in little bursts of thorns. In the moonlight, they almost looked fuzzy rather than prickly. But sat stop their round little bodies were a cluster of flowers, their blossoms a gradient yellow in the center, growing darker until a rich red fringed the edges of the petals. Sakura smiled softly to herself as she brushed her fingertips over the flowers, reminded yet again and that even the strongest and harshest of things can still be capable of softness and beauty. The two were not exclusive, they had never been, and true survival meant a balance of the two.

She rose from her crouch, intending to gaze back up at the moon and the breathtaking expanse of the stars, but a tumble of pebbles caught her attention. Though she may have been doubtful of her chosen path in life, the training of that path was something she would never regret. Instantly her senses shut out the moon, only its light was necessary, the garden didn't matter, only the shadows that moved in it did, and the silky kiss of flower petals beneath her skin only distracted her from the shifting motions her feet felt through the ground.

A darting motion to her left snapped her eyes into focus in the dark. Her heart raced suddenly as if anticipating something she herself wasn't aware of. Could it be a stray dog? She had seen a few of them roaming the city. Perhaps a cat, out for the night and stalking the backyards. She tried to settle herself, convince her paranoid thoughts that it had just been the wind in the palms, or the shadows playing tricks on her. It wouldn't have been the first time.

She stopped breathing, listening intently to the rustle of the night, and atop that soft murmur, something snapped. She sucked in a quiet breath, sharpening her eyes and drawing focus to her hearing as her master had taught her. Suddenly the back sliding door to the house seemed too far away, Temari seemed out of reach, and she was overcome with the certainty that her voice would fail if she called for someone. Taking a breath, she calmed herself, suddenly feeling foolish for being so startled, and turned back toward the patio. The sand and pebbles crunched under her feet making her cringe at the sound, a dead giveaway to her position, and she tried to step quietly and carefully back to the safety of the house. Even if the dangers were only in her mind, she knew better than to doubt her gut. She was in foreign land, surrounded by many more foes than friends, and she needed a solid barrier between herself and whatever laid in wait in the dark.

Three steps, that's all she was able to take until a chill ran up her spine. She knew this sensation, cold and sickly – far from pleasant – and recognized with certainty that someone had laid eyes on her. She stopped suddenly, now hearing the shifting of weight over the grains on the ground, and risked a glance over her shoulder.

There, standing on the tiers of the garden, silhouetted against the soft moonlight, a pair of men stared down at her. Her heart sunk in her chest, instinct telling her that this visit wasn't supposed to be pleasant for her, and a deep quake racked her body, leaving it feeling cold and hollow. They must have noticed this moment of pause, that shiver that trembled through her shoulders, as their response was a casual and confident step down off the tier and the faintest tilt of their lips into a shallow grin.

"Well," the taller of the two spoke, his voice smooth as he drawled in her direction. Her breath caught in her throat. "Look what we've got here."

She turned to face them, refusing to let these natives bully her into a sense of fear, a sense she had worked relentlessly to overcome. But what was she to say? Did she even look confident? Given how they seemed to chuckle low in their throats, probably not.

"Just our luck, eh?" the other responded. They shared a look that made her blood run cold.

"And, if I'm not mistaken," the tall one spoke again, his eyes settling on her. "It seems that your little guard dog is away from home tonight. That's too bad."

His partner turned to him and sneered, a cocky snicker through his teeth. "Too bad for _her_."

This earned a nod in agreement. "Yeah…just perfect for us though."

Sakura's heart sped in her chest, pounding against her ribs like a rabbit against a cage, blood rushed through her ears, and something deep – something instinctual and primitive within her – began to panic. She wished she hadn't shut the door behind her, that extra second to shove it open could be the difference between a smooth getaway and a fight she was in no condition to engage in. It seemed, however, as the two made another advancing step, that the choice was made for her. She turned on her good heel, knowing she only had moments, and dashed for the door. A few paces, a handful of long strides, and she would have been able to at least pound on the glass and rouse the two sleeping in the house.

But these men were fast, trained just as she had been, and reacted within a moment of her turn. With the brace around her ankle and the pressing need to avoid straining the healing tendon, she was slower than normal, clumsier than normal, and it appeared that they had been fully prepared to take advantage of her weakened state.

An outstretched hand snagged her loose tank top, stopping her dead in her tracks and ripping her back. She dug a heel into the ground, gritting her teeth against the protest of her ankle, and surged chakra into her legs. For a moment, she dragged the man, a good step or two, but then his other hand found her arm, yanking back while a flaring pain shot through the base of her neck. She lost concentration, her muscles relaxed to their normal, rather lackluster in comparison, strength of endurance. She took a breath to call out, hoping Temari or Kankuro would hear the scuffle in the garden, notice some voices that weren't meant to be there.

Then a large hand reached out, clamping over her mouth, muffling whatever meager attempt for a cry her short breath had warranted. It drew her back hard, with fingers like rocks and tendons like cables drawn dangerously taut. Another blow to the base of the skull and her vision got fuzzy. She felt her knees go limp for a moment, staggering her attempt to get back to the house, and all within a short moment, Sakura's knees struck the sand, her arm was yanked behind her back, and she shoved to the ground.

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	13. Part 13

I do not own NARUTO

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**frequently asked questions**

To answer some questions that have arisen in response to my story, I'd like to go over a few things before we start this chapter, it may clarify some pressing questions or concerns.

First off, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to leave a comment on this work, I truly appreciate it. Any question or simple comment that you have only helps me see my work from another point of view, from another angle I might not have looked at before, and it allows me to build off of the opinions of my audience. So again, thank you. I hope you continue to enjoy this story as it develops.

Secondly, and perhaps most pressing, a lot of you are wondering exactly who it is that has been stalking Sakura through the desert and causing Gaara all this ruckus. If you've been scouring your brain to put a name or a face to the character, trying to go over the villains of the show, and you can't seem to find a match, well…that's because there isn't one. I decided to create a lot of my own characters (Miller, Achi, Niko, etc.) instead of trying to force in established characters where they might not belong in regards to the pace or overall feel of the story. This allowed me to flow with my writing more naturally, rather than try and integrate an image that might distract from the true focus of the story; Gaara and Sakura. It worked well for the minor characters, seeing as established characters seem to distract while OC – though potentially prominent or very detailed - are more easily set aside. (At least when I read fanfics…) In the case of this faceless villain, I wanted to give the readers some free rein. He is yours to do with as you please. Give him the face you feel he should have, give him the past you think led him to where he is now, give him the voice you think fits that lazy and cocksure confidence that he showed Gaara. After all, Gaara's amazing and I love him, so how long do you honestly think this guy has left?

Another point that has been brought up is Sakura and Gaara themselves. I'll try to make this brief. In this particular work, I really tried to make the center focus be Sakura and Gaara and their – as one commenter put it – _slow burn_ of a relationship. (Love that description, btw) Now mind you, this takes place not even six months after they first met, so yes, they are still young (though I personally don't view them as young as 12 or 13…I like to add a few years, for my sanity. Let's say 15 or 16…for my sanity) their relationship is far from blossomed, and Gaara is still trying desperately to understand an onslaught of foreign concepts that have been completely alien to him. He's doing a damn good job in my opinion. Plus, in the show, he seems to chill the fuck out after his fight with Naruto pretty damn fast, so I wanted to give some more depth and reason (my own, of course, and by no means factual) to this sudden change, or even how he managed it.

Sakura on the other hand…I hear a lot about her super strength, or rather lack thereof, and I hear you and I get it. But, she has only just begun her training with Tsunade. She is smart, very skilled, practically overflowing with potential, but you must remember that she is still young. She is not her teacher, she still needs the practice to focus her energy and block outside stimuli (Like the two men, or the vine in the sand) from distracting her concentration. Imagine trying to shoot an arrow while someone blows an air horn at your head at the very last second. In my mind, these are the types of things that she is still battling to overcome. Chiyo herself was impressed, simply by the extent of her control, but a passive playing field is far different than the heat of the moment, where one mistake can mean the difference of a little hurt or a whole hell of a lot. Like all the great ninja before her, she has to hone her skills, refine them into what will _eventually_ become a specialized art form for her. She's in a foreign land, alone against hostiles, and before she can be the badass we all know and love; she's got to start somewhere. And she needs challenges to find her strength.

(All these answers are simply my own opinion for this particular story and should be taken with a grain of salt…or two are three depending on how you fancied them)

There! If you read that whole ramble, I hope it answered whatever lingering questions you might have had. But, as in all things on this website, this is a work of pure fiction and is simply to entertain. The opinion of the work is up to the individual, and I hope it continues to entertain as it has, but perhaps just a little more clearly from now on.

I'd be happy to answer any more questions that might be left in the comments, and, with that out of the way, we can all move on to Follow the Sun, Part 13.

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Follow the Sun, Part 13

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The man was quick, Gaara would give him that. But not quick enough as to avoid any injury. Blood dripped over the sand, a few droplets here and there from where he had managed a slicing cut or even a close graze. He seemed free of any noticeable weaponry, favoring his hidden talents over blunt attacks. Gaara might have thought he had anticipated an encounter with him, after all; who better to do Suna's dirty work? While his sand rushed forward in attack, the man would jump away, dodging the slithering grains with a smirk, only to fail to see the other tendril waiting in the shadows. This method had gotten him a few times, earning curses and grunts of pain, all usually followed by a devious grin. As if he enjoyed getting picked at.

But Gaara was still on his toes, ever vigilant of the battlefield and how his opponent moved in it. Something seemed off about how the man spaced his attacks, how he moved away in defense. It seemed all too deliberate, and it didn't take long for Gaara to realize that they were slowly, but ever so surely, moving away from the city. This confused him some, thinking that his opponent would only wish to close the distance between himself and his target.

That's when it hit him. Well…that's when a few things hit him. The first was a break in his concentration, something unexpected that had very clearly thrown him. Involuntarily, he had dropped his advancing attack and turned back to the city, a sudden and intense pull to his attention drawing his eyes away from the battle. His eyes fell on the south, where the walls of the city lay hidden behind the towering dunes. _No_ … The sharp pain came a moment later. For only a moment, with his back turned on his enemy, a spark of light illuminated the sands around his feet. It hadn't struck him; that strange static that he had been waiting to witness first hand had hit his sand shield instead. It blasted the sand as it came to his defense, always so attentive and loyal to him, even when he wasn't paying any mind to his surroundings. But that didn't stop that charging static from jolting in nerves. The air was very dry, and this energy seemed to crackle about haphazardly.

The sudden ordeal had left him frazzled, to say the least. Gaara threw a dramatic attack at his enemy, a sudden wave of sand rising out of the dune with a swing of his arm. It flowed out at his attacker, giving him no choice but to retreat. Gaara hoped that would give him a good moment to straighten himself. The beast had gone quiet, suspiciously so, and there was a very prominent ache at the back of his mind. What had that been? He normally didn't feel anything from the city while so far out. Even his markers, his little beacons, they were too faint to notice out here. The only one he ever had ties to was…

His eyes settled once more on the man in front of him, now standing in the rippling wake of his wave. Even though he couldn't see the man's face, there was a certain quality to his stature that seemed…knowing.

He held up his hands, his shoulders shrugging casually as he scoffed. "Well, don't look at me. I've been here the whole time."

Gaara felt his brow twitch. What the hell was that supposed to mean? But before he could question the man, the beast in his head – previously quiet with contemplation – suddenly seethed with recognition. It had been home, his own damn _house_ that called out to him from the depths of the desert. Throughout his life, after so many comings and goings, it was quite literally littered with scattered deposits of his sand. The yard, the garden, even the floor boards of the hallways had little grains pressed into their corners. And no one disturbed the monster's lair since, as with most everything else; that beast _always_ noticed. That sand, those little pieces of himself, they had told something to that thing slithering through his mind. Something had happened, but –

 _Blood_.

He nearly grimaced in response. It was with a deep and suggestive purr that the beast spoke to him. It was as much an answer as it was a plea, and given the aching that suddenly pulled at him, he had a good idea of who had spilled blood at his house. That voice echoed quietly in the back of his thoughts, pleading its case for all the things it wished it could do. It wasn't very pleased with her being injured, which surprised Gaara, but it was quickly clarified as nothing more than simple jealousy. If her blood spilled it would be _his_ , no one else's. For a moment, he wondered if the foul creature would ever be capable of seeing her as anything else.

"You don't get it, do you?"

Gaara snapped his focus back at the man, the sand shifting dangerously at his feet, feeding off its master's emotions. Worry, that's what it was, and being all the way out here he was helpless to do anything about it.

"It's not _me_ that's going to kill her," the man elaborated, the slightest crackle of static flying between his fingers in the shadow of his cloak. Gaara wasn't about to let that go unnoticed. "At least not anymore. It's that city of yours. People talk, you know," he mentioned, taking a slight step forward as if to try and converse with him. A visible slithering wake through the ground warned him to keep his distance. He eyed it once, smartly deciding to stay put. "I've heard plenty over the past few weeks. Especially earlier today, after my little visit."

"What are you getting at?" Gaara demanded, his voice going deep with unamused impatience.

"Word spread like wildfire, at least that's what that scouting trio had said." _Scouting trio?_ Gaara suddenly thought back to that very afternoon, to when he'd radioed for a team in the north. After all that had happened, with Sakura, with the council and his sister, had he ever heard of their return? " _Dropped everything and ran_ ," the man said with a throaty chuckle. "That's how they put it, acted like it was a quite a shock, too. She was gone, lost to the dunes up until she decided to call for – of all people – _you_ …well," the man breathed, his façade of amazement was a clear and mocking attempt to rile him. "That's gotta be _something_ for you, something _really special_."

Gaara kept his mouth shut, figuring it the better option since he didn't know what he could trust saying to the man next.

After his lack of reaction and a brief pause to study him, the man sighed, appearing to yet again resort to jesting him. "It seems not all your citizens are very happy with their tree hugging neighbors, though. He may have killed your daddy, but Orochimaru was right."

Gaara hadn't known he had attacked at first, sometimes it didn't require motion or command, sometimes his sand just knew when he wanted something dead. The man was swaying to side in an instant, however, prancing back on light feet, the slightest touches against the ground. He seemed amused at the swiftness of Gaara's attack, though he was ignorant of the extent of it.

The man chuckled. "You can't trust those people and there are those in your city that know it. And such a pretty little thing with ties to the Hokage, stuck in those walls like a dog in a cage, hell…they won't even need convincing. Funny, isn't it? All I had to do was drop her out here and sore pride and town gossip did the rest for me."

Gaara's brow pulled together slightly, question playing across his features for a moment. He glared back at the man, his trust in his family hardening his resolve. "She is well protected."

"Aye, but for how long? Those siblings of yours," he stated, eyeing him as he spoke. "They must be tired, probably fast asleep by now. And Sakura? She gets so restless…doesn't she?"

He thought back to the previous night, to her punching out a guard and breaking into the greenhouse. All for some bit of familiarity. He had been so blindsided by the way she had looked at him and the way she spoke to him; quiet, soft, as if she were sharing some secret with him, he hadn't even thought to question it. Of course, it should have been a precursor to her habitual meandering, something he hadn't even thought to suspect. Suddenly Gaara didn't feel as confident as he had a moment ago.

His opponent gasped, sarcastically so. "And oh, no. Looks like someone sent her guard dog in the wrong direction."

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It wasn't the whispered shuffles of feet or the soft murmured voices; voices so low she could hardly understand them, that woke her from that fuzzy darkness. It was something else, something that the two holding her down hadn't seemed to notice.

Sakura opened her eyes, squinted against the sand pressed to her face, and for just a moment she focused on something…beneath her. Something had moved, not physically, but…she could have sworn it was a spiritual quake that roused her from that haze she had fallen into. It was as if something beneath the house had woken up, disrupted by the scuffle in the garden, turning around in its subterranean cave and peering up at them.

Before she could react, however, the muffled voices suddenly became clearer. Quiet, too quiet for them to hear, she gasped in a short breath, her eyes struggling to see their surroundings. She remembered being taken down, and her head hitting the patio, but then she must have blacked out. Her head hurt, as she might have expected, but her throat hurt too, like something had clotheslined her. She had seen enough stealth tactics to know how to silence someone's voice, she figured this blow to her throat had been employed in the same manner, to keep her quiet. A flash of red caught her eye, she strained to peer at it without drawing attention. It was the flowering barrel cactus, the one from the backyard stone garden. They were still at Temari's house. She froze, sure that the two thought her little nap hadn't been over so soon and focused on what was whispered between them, feeling a little more confident knowing they hadn't gotten the chance to move her.

A fist in her hair turned her face to gravel, holding it there against the ground as dirt and sand dug into her face. She was really growing rather tired of the abrasiveness of the ground, especially since there was no need for such force while she played dead. With her throat still throbbing, every heartbeat like a deep ache through her neck, she struggled to find her voice. The men behind her, acting so careless with the human body, held her arms behind her at such an angle, with such counteractive force on her joint, she feared he would simply pop her arm out without even intending. She gritted her teeth against the deep pulling she felt in the socket.

"Don't be stupid!" one of them spat, his voice a harsh whisper between clenched teeth.

"No one would know it's us," the other protested. "Besides, what's it matter? She's an outsider. Probably sent by the Leaf to get the dirt on us. Find our weak spots." This last was emphasized with a spit to the ground, narrowly missing her cheek. If she had any less control over herself, that might have gotten her to crack. "Nothing like beating them to it. Probably even got the Sabaku's working for her. You heard how she's got Gaara running around all over the place for her!"

Sakura felt cold at the mention of his name, inwardly punching herself for ever involving him. Of course, she should have seen this coming. As an outsider, one that hailed from a nation bearing broken trust, she should have known she'd be a target. After all, desperate families all looked for something to blame, and she had come wandering through those gates like an answer to their prayers. Only now did she realize that she had dragged the others down with her. Temari? Kankuro? _Traitors_? Inconceivable. But Gaara…he had been trying so hard to regain what was lost to him for so long, she had seen it herself, and even now, after so little time, she noticed how the reflections of that beast showed less and less. How his eyes were less critical and more…patient, curious, but also hesitant. Had she just undone everything he had built up?

This did not go over well with his partner. There was a muffled smack, she guessed a quick punch in the shoulder. "Quiet!" he seethed. "That's practically treason just to suggest their involvement in something like that."

"She got more care in 24 hours than my brother _ever_ did in his whole service! You tell me that's not –"

"That gives you no right to do with her as you please!" hissed his partner. Sakura fought a grimace at the words. Obviously, this had been a recurring subject between the two, given the lack of patience in the man's voice. "Besides, damaged goods aren't practical for bargaining."

 _Bargaining?_ She pinched her brow in question, what could they mean?

"How do you know they'll take the bait?" demanded the other in return. He had been the shorter of the two, Sakura was sure of it, the one that had grabbed her shirt and yanked her off balance, the one who took a more personal interest in pinning her to the ground.

His partner snickered before they tried to pull her up. She stayed limp, allowing her façade of unconsciousness to buy her some information and the element of surprise. The shorter one slipped an arm around her waist, a little too high up under her tank for her liking, while the other took an arm over their shoulder. "That team of hers, running in half-cocked thinking their unstoppable, and that Hokage, well…I'd imagine they don't like her damaged, and such things have their price."

Suddenly her heart flipped in her chest, a cold realization settling over her. She had heard enough and the time had come to play a little dirty. Just like Tsunade had been teaching her.

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It wasn't often that Gaara had such an advantage against his opponents, and he intended to use it rather creatively. His mission always took him out of the country, to the mountains or the forests that bordered his desert, and he was left with only so much of his sand to make use of. But out here, this was his territory, his home turf, and not everyone knew that his manipulation extended far beyond that personal stock he always carried with him. They figured such control was exclusive to the sand in his gourd, and most that discovered otherwise never lived to tell the tale. No matter, those looks of shock as they realized their misfortune always alleviated some pent of stress, something wound so tight that it threatened to snap.

The sand beneath his feet shifted, his thoughts churning wildly in his head. Thoughts of home, thoughts of Sakura. He was worried, and in his worry, he had grown dreadfully impatient. There was no use dragging this out any longer. He had hoped to gain more information about the man and his connections, seeing as he so loved the sound of his own voice, but it became clear that this encounter had been meant to distract him from what transpired in the city. He hadn't come here to finish her off, Gaara doubted that had even been his intent in the afternoon. Sakura had found refuge in a potentially hostile environment and he had simply come to watch his handiwork unfold.

Gaara could have kicked himself, cursing at this distraction that had clouded his thoughts. With Sakura so at the mercy of his people…of course that had been the plan; a simple strategy of divide and concur. He had noticed it in Temari, the quick response to defend a foreigner, even when her own people had been caught in the middle, of course, that wouldn't sit well with the population. And Gaara himself had made it no better. It had been a smug moment of pride as the startled faces of the market settled on him, standing unabashedly in the afternoon sun with an arm secured around Sakura's waist. She had been broken and bloody, yet she had clung to him for support and for safety, a shocking site for all that had been present. She had demonstrated a closeness that no one had dared consider, and he had been so caught up in that simple feeling of her pressed to his side that he hadn't given any thought to how it could be used against him. Or against her.

He felt the rumbles in his mind, that strange cross between a growl and a purr, and felt the influence of that beast bubble up in his chest. It had an idea on how to deal with this foe. Something quick, creative, and splendidly ironic.

The wind picked up, feeding off the energy that rolled from his body, commanding the very particles in the air to move to his whim. It circled the two, quickly enclosing the man in a loosely spinning twister of sand. He looked around, growing suspicious given the way his shoulders tensed and he suddenly seemed ready for anything. But Gaara doubted he'd be ready for this.

The sand brushed against each other in the air, dancing in the wind, growing fierce and dangerously abrasive as it picked up speed. Gaara could feel every grain, every little touch and brush that happened in the air, and after a tense moment, the first flash finally drew his gaze from the man before him. Little sparks jolted across the sand that flew through the air, dying out as quickly as they had been born, but there were plenty of them, continually illuminating the darkened eye of Gaara's own storm. The flashes cast fleeting glimpses of pale blue light, static ghosted over Gaara's skin, raising the hairs on his neck and seeming to spark his nerves to life.

The man took a step back, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to understand what was happening. The static must have surprised him, not expecting Gaara to generate so much charge in the air, and he shot his glare back to Gaara once again. "What are you doing?" he demanded. The collected and egotistical jeer had left his voice, icing over with urgency and panic, both things he had failed to hide as he spoke. It suddenly seemed as though all those little injuries from their previous back and forth had finally taken effect.

Gaara simply smirked in response. He had doubted the man would understand what he was trying to do, as it wasn't often that one was faced with their own specialty on the battle field. This man, this stranger that had decided to try and rip apart a mending alliance by using a young girl against her people, well…Gaara decided it was time he taste his own medicine.

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With a graceful arch of her neck, Sakura slammed the back of her head into an unsuspecting nose, hearing – and feeling – a satisfying crunch before the hand at her waist suddenly fell back. A restrained shout followed her actions, and while she still had them confused, she turned into the man holding her arm, pirouetting to face him and using her momentum to throw a sucker punch to his gut. He doubled over, and with her arm already clenched around his neck, she forced his head into her raised knee. If they wanted to jump her, they were going to have to wear the evidence of their mistake on their faces for a good while.

Now, what was it that Tsunade had said about personal gripes?

 _Worked up means less focused._

A boot to the chest, or more so a brace, effectively put some space between Sakura and the man crumpled in front of her. He staggered back, falling to his backside and bringing a hand to his bloody nose and chin. She knew she shouldn't have taken the time, broke her concentration, but it felt so good to give him the slightest bit of a smirk when those eyes looked back at her. All shock and hatred. That smirk of hers only seemed to make it worse.

A shuffle of gravel to her right pulled her back to the fight, as the shorter back made a grab for her legs, but she pranced back. She listened to her body as it talked to her, telling her the stresses and pressures put on her wounded ankle, and she danced around it as best she could, determined to teach these men that the women of the leaf weren't ones to try and man handle.

 _Don't underestimate, not you, not anyone._

Her eyes shot to the upstairs windows, quickly gauging which ones she assumed held sleeping soldiers ready for action…if she could only rouse them. But, there was no sense in not getting her fun before rallying the troops. The scrawny one reached out again, angrily following after her as she pranced away, and with another smooth pirouette on her good heel, she swung out her injured foot and let the rough and sturdy brace catch the man upside the chin, twisting his chin to the side while the rest of his head followed after it.

Her eyes found the taller man coming at her, moving like a silent shadow under the pale moonlight, but that's all she needed. She slid to the side as he rushed her, barreling past in a misguided attempt to overthrow her by pure strength alone. But aside from her chakra control, she had also learned to use her opponents against themselves. This seemed a good time for an example in said lesson. His cloak billowed in the air as he passed her by, his stocky weight low to the ground, ready to tackle. Instead of tripping him and sending him skidding to stop, she grabbed the collar of the cloak, following his momentum to swing him full circle. She pooled chakra in her arms, feeling her muscles flex like cords under her skin, becoming impossibly tight compared to her usual strength. It wouldn't take this man long to regain control over his momentum, but before then, she timed her release and at the last moment she swung him into the wall of the home. His body tumbled forward, unable to catch himself after her chakra packed throw, and with a shudder of the windows, he slammed into the mudstone walls.

Sakura smirked, not at all perturbed at her rough voice that still felt weak in her throat, she hadn't needed it to sound the alarm anyway. There was no way they were sleeping through that.

The scrawny one made a dash for her again, this time the glint of a knife shone off the blade, but not from the moon. He stopped, his eyes flickering with a sudden reflection of the same light, and they both glanced quickly up at the window perched atop the man groaning on the ground, holding his head. Someone had turned on a light, and given the sound of distress, had also heard their little squabble. This did not bode well for the two that had decided to use her against both friend and foe for their own intents and purposes.

Her eyes found the scrawny man again, but he was still trying to make a go of her, flipping his blade around in his hand and appearing much closer than she had anticipated. She danced back, unaware of his sudden approach, and readied herself for a swing of the blade. But he suddenly seemed more fearful. He was becoming desperate, trying for the gate that lay beyond where she stood.

 _Always leave a message._

She might be taking this particular bit of advice out of context, but she felt it fit well enough. A message it was.

She let him scramble to his feet, acted as though she would simply let him scatter passed, but with a quick hand she snagged his collar. Flaring chakra through her arm, she lifted the man off his feet and slammed him back to the ground, on his chest, knocking the very breath from his lungs. He huffed, all he could really manage as his lungs struggled to expand, but Sakura gave him no time for reprieve. From his collar, she moved her fist to his hair, planning on returning the favor for such an affectionate yank of the skull. A good smack against the gravel effectively rid him of his knife. It scattered a few inches from his palms, abandoned as he tried to reach around and pull her off.

If they thought she needed to turn the children of the late Kazekage against their own people to get what she wanted, to be a _threat_ , well…she'd just have to show them she intended to be perfectly capable on her own. And considering her natural disposition for control and manipulation of her chakra, once she got the upper hand, she wasn't easily swayed. It was rather easy to lift up his torso, simply by the hair on his scalp, and send it crashing back down.

The little twitches and mumbled groans fell on deaf ears. She had tried to be patient with them…hadn't she? Yes, she had even tried to run, as if to give them a second chance to think about what they were doing, but they had pursued her. And again, she had given them every opportunity to leave her be, realize their mistake and just flee. She would have forgiven such daring acts of ignorant and misguided patriotism, young men and all that…but they had made their intentions as clear as she had needed them.

A yelp sounded from behind her, startling her out of her focus on the man beneath her. She dropped him, barely hearing as he fell with a weighted thud to the ground. She turned on a heel, ready to throw a punch at her other attacker, but found him on the ground instead. It took her a moment to register this as a good thing and not another threat. Not that she could blame herself, it had been months since Sakura had seen the chakra strings of a skilled puppeteer.

Sher really could have laughed, and given the spiking surge of adrenaline making her a little light headed, she actually did. Kankuro had rushed from the house, the patio door was still thrown haphazardly open, and intercepted the man as he had tried to sneak up behind Sakura. And he had done so in nothing but his boxers. Standing wide eyes and shocked, he easily quelled the man's struggles as he assessed the rest of the back yard.

Sakura took a breath to steady herself. "Only two," she rasped, her voice still weak from the hit she hadn't known she's taken. She rubbed her throat, wincing as it ached under her touch. Easy enough to fix, but she felt her hands shaking, she needed to calm herself down before she tried to fix anything.

"You okay?" he asked, taking quick paces over to her.

Before she could answer the sound of padded footsteps echoed from the house. Temari appeared on the patio, her blonde hair was down and whisked about in a tousled and dramatic manner. A rare sight for the woman indeed. She took in the back yard, her brother, Sakura, the two men lying on the ground. "What happened?" she demanded, the night causing her voice to hiss through her lips in a whisper. She was at Sakura's side at once, taking her shoulders and forcing her a few steps back from the groaning man on the ground. A split brow and busted lip, possibly teeth as well, had leaked enough blood to pool visibly on the gravel. Temari kept herself between the two.

They turned hard and weary eyes on her. Sakura could see the panic in them, the sudden call to action from within their own beds, and the response of the adrenaline seemed to vibrate behind their eyes. She coughed once, trying to clear her throat, and waved a hand, asking for a moment. Trying to give her throat some strength, she pooled some soothing chakra in her palm. Pressing it to her throat, she breathed shallowly, in and out, until she felt the ache and the throb subside.

She coughed once again, for good measure. "They jumped me," she said, her voice was a little scratchy, but otherwise no worse for wear. "Said something about using me as a bargaining chip, some kind of collateral. Tried to knock me out and take me somewhere." Her throat had gone dry by the end of her explanation, and she swallowed, rubbing it with her hand, a sort of nervous gesture.

Temari had set her lips in a thin line, her brow pulling together strangely over her eyes. She looked down to the man bleeding on the ground, and with a rough shove of her foot, she kicked his shoulder over so he lay on his back. Though bruised and bloody, she had clearly recognized him. A slight gasp left her lips, it was a momentary lapse in the poise and control that Sakura had previously seen, and it was the rarity of such a break that left no doubt of foul play.

Swollen eyes peered up at her. His Adam's apple bobbed as he took a breath. "Captain…"

She turned away, her hard lips shifting down to a scowl, her brow pulling together more definitively, and a hard resolve of shame seemed to shroud her face. Sakura, taken aback by this, almost reached for her, as if to comfort her in this betrayal. But she thought better of it. It seemed as though he was trying to speak to her again, perhaps it was the shame or the fear of punishment that stalled his voice, but Temari would be taking no excuses. She was quick, going from stiff and rigid with disappointed anger to swift and fluid, appearing graceful in the moonlight. But this grace had ended in a rough and well-deserved kick in the ribs. He sputtered a groan but relented to hold his tongue.

Temari turned to Sakura, placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder. She looked like she wanted to say something, perhaps apologize, maybe try and explain away any doubt of her involvement. But Sakura placed a hand over hers, the slightest squeeze of her fingers silencing any sort of response.

"It's all right," Sakura spoke quietly between them, trying her best to sound sincere. "But I doubt these two came up with this bright idea all by themselves. More than likely, I'd say they weren't alone."

Temari nodded before sharing a glance with her brother, a quizzical look flickering over his face in response as she pointed down to the men on the ground.

"Right now?" he balked, making a rather open gesture to his attire…or rather what he lacked in attire. Temari only crossed her arms as her response. Kankuro stared a moment before snorting in defeat. "Fine," he groaned, clearly unhappy with whatever had passed between them. A flick of his wrist later and both the men were tied with chakra strings and knocked unconscious. Just for good measure, he had assured, and definitely not a pointless act of aggression. But then again, he _had_ been so rudely awakened.

He stalked inside, his footsteps heavy and tired against the sand, and returned moments later with some loose sweatpants and a t shirt. With a radio to his lips, he had called in their little distress and Sakura was able to catch the end of his transmission.

"Yeah…all right…Yeah, clear a holding room, they're gonna be questioned." He glanced over at the two women standing guard in the garden, keeping an eye on their sleeping visitors. "No, they shouldn't be causing any more problems anytime soon. I'll be down with them shortly."

"Sakura," Temari said, her voice still strangely quiet. Sakura met her eyes, they were still wide, still coming down off the high of adrenaline. "Home has been compromised." Sakura tried her best not to grimace at the word, feeling all too responsible for this little mishap. "We best move you somewhere else for the night. I'll take you to the tower, it's under constant surveillance and there's a skeleton crew to guard it at night. Nothing gets in or out without passes and orders."

Sakura thought about apologizing, pleading her case, but what good would that have done?

"Temari," Kankuro huffed after he finished on the radio. "You might want to try and raise Gaara, see how things are on his end."

She nodded, holding out a hand for his radio. Once in possession of the device, she dialed the frequency to her brothers. She stepped aside to try and reach him, the receiver clutch tightly to her ear. Sakura could plainly see the worry in those tense muscles.

Kankuro approached her, a hand fidgeting with the drawstring of his pants. Apparently, he was no better off than his sister, clearly looking for a distraction while Temari spoke into the radio. "I've got a guy on the way to help me with these two," he began. "You should grab a change of clothes before heading to the tower, you shouldn't be bothered there."

Sakura nodded, only half listening. That was okay, she had a feeling that Kankuro was only half thinking about what he was saying anyway. They both drifted their eyes from each other back to Temari. Her back was turned to them, her shoulders tense, and her voice a perfect reflection of that tension.

"Gaara?" Sakura heard her mumble, her voice almost lost with her back turned. "Gaara, do you copy?" There was no response, earning a quizzical look from the blonde as she stared briefly at the affronting radio. Her voice came a little more urgently this time. "Gaara, it's Temari, we have a situation. Do you copy?"

Nothing.

She set the headset down, moving quickly to stand on the tiers on the stone garden, her eyes peering over rooftops and to the walls to the north. Or perhaps what she spied lay beyond those walls. Her lips moved, just the breast breath forming her words. "How in the hell…"

Kankuro had had enough of this. He stepped forward, coming to stand by his sister's side, and gazed out to the north as well, his brow pulling together in some mix of curiosity and worry. "What is it?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"I can't reach him," Temari responded, her voice almost dazed as she searched the calm winds and cloudless skies. "Something must be interfering with the signal."

"How so? It's clear as a whistle out tonight."

Temari shared a look with her brother, her eyes flickering back to the headset, proving useless for their objective. "There's…it's nothing but static."

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	14. Part 14

I do not own NARUTO

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Follow the Sun, Part 14

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The wind was relentless. The desert had transformed into a cyclone of howling winds and deadly abrasive sand. It whipped up from the ground, scouring anything caught in its path down to the bone, and it took command of the skies in an ominously dark flurry. The storm had disrupted the desert's peaceful dunes for miles around and the sandy winds, rotating slowly over the lands like a fat, destructive tornado, sparked and glowed every now and again with crackles and charges of electricity.

Gaara stood, stoic and steadfast within the eye of his storm, and watched his handiwork swallow up the horizon and the brilliant starry sky above. The sparks and charges never touched him, he had grounded himself rather well, and like the sand of the storm itself, they simply flowed around him, almost effortlessly through him, as he waited for the electric charge in the air to reach critical mass. He'd been toying with this for some time, always so curious as to how the desert made storms and lightning with nothing but wind and heat and had begun experimenting with his own methods. He'd successfully charged the air before, using the friction of grain over grain to give his brother a shock when he hadn't been paying attention, and in the dark, it was easier to see those little crackles of heated charge. It was rather easy, he figured it, as long as he could continue to control the wind patterns, the speed, and the amount of sand in the air. The ratio had to be perfect; little enough to control without potentially hurting himself, yet not so little as to be harmless.

After all, Gaara intended this to hurt.

His opponent had gone quiet. Standing a few good paces away, his leg bloodied and his hand pressed to a freshly leaking gash on his side, he seemed to be simply studying Gaara as the storm progressed. They both knew that escape was impossible. After a few failed attempts to leave or draw Gaara further from the city, his opponent quickly learned that to go into those sandy winds would mean to be ripped a part. Not that Gaara would complain, it'd be quicker that way. But since this man insisted on dodging his sand and toying with him, especially now that the beacon from his home had gone strangely quiet, Gaara was in the mood to end this.

It seemed his opponent knew this as well. He straightened, as best as he could with his waist ripped open on the one side, and in that small movement, Gaara grew very suspicious. It wasn't for an attack, or defense, or any sort of malicious intent. He stood and stared him down with a look that Gaara could only place as…acceptance.

"You've surpassed your reputation, Gaara. It's been fun."

"You think it over so soon?" Gaara asked, testing him for any give away of foul play.

The man snickered, though he seemed to wince after it, and shook his head. "When you live by the fight you know you'll die by the fight. Everyone does, and one day even _you_ will."

The static churned in the air, flickering in the dark clouds like djinns, phantom spirits said to haunt the desert. It was rather fitting, Gaara thought it, that such phantoms had come to see his opponent's end. Those little devils were rumored to be drawn to misfortune in the deep desert, and misfortune always seemed to follow him.

"I don't live for such things, not anymore." The statement left his lips without as much as an initial thought. It annoyed him for a moment, feeling as though he were only trying to justify himself. But to who? To this man? Nonsense, he was as good as dead, he mattered none. Perhaps it was too himself, it had been a long road so far, and it would only get longer. Perhaps he needed more faith in himself.

His opponent laughed again, a short and conceited chuckle, before coughing up some blood into his hand. "If not for that than for _what_?! Don't you see? _This_ is all there is. The fight, the rise to power, the _challenge of it all_. Those people," he scoffed, throwing a gesture out to the south, to the city. "They live in a lie. Their existences are boring and pointless, _they_ are meaningless. And in their delusions, they send us – the strong, the capable, the only ones _brave_ enough – to slaughter on their behalf only to shun us when we return. Deeming us too dangerous, too unpredictable, too _unstable_ to wield the power that _they_ gave us, the power that _they_ bred out in their people. They would just as soon see you die if it meant saving their own hides, and here you stand! You're even protecting foreigners now! It's pitiful, pathetic," he spat, his voice sneering in disgust. "And for what?"

"For them."

"For _them_?" he gawked, almost laughing at this. "Those meaningless sacks of meat? Really…you've gone soft," he jeered, his voice almost lost the wind the howled around them. He paused then, as if knowing that he didn't have long, and brought up a hand to pull the scarf from his face. He grinned again, with that same knowing quality to it, and Gaara had to strain to hear him. "Don't let them fool you, Gaara," he warned, his deep voice nearly impossible to understand. "For people like us; the damned, shunned, the _feared_ …life will always be suffering. No one can ever _really_ love a monster."

Gaara felt his control start to snap. His face twitched, his nose crinkled as his brow drew together in frustration, his lips pulling into a scowl. The winds became even more violent than before, not as systematic as he had had them. The charges in the air became erratic, feeding off of his energy like the very sand flying through the air.

 _Do it._

Not yet.

 _Do it…_

The man kept that smug grin on his face, knowing it must have annoying Gaara, and seemed to look past him for a moment. Out past the blinding rages of the storm, out past the miles of dunes that separated them from civilization, all the way to the city. He seemed to sigh, to shake his head, and Gaara could feel that gaze of his settle back on himself. "I know how much you must hope…but no, Gaara…not even her."

He hadn't even given it a coherent thought, but after those words met his ears his sand had reacted on its own. All those small injuries had added up for his adversary in this battle, and all that gradual blood loss made him slow in his reactions. From the ground beneath his opponent's feet, Gaara's sand sprang up, snagging his arms and yanking him down. With a sharp cry in protest, given the extensive wounds across his body, the man fell hard to his knees. The sand coiled up his arms, squeezing like a snake constricting around its prey, and there was a muffled groan in protest that was lost on Gaara. Even over the roar of the wind, even with the blood rushing in his ears from his riled temper, Gaara hadn't missed the sound of bones snapping up his sand.

Another cry of protest, another snap to answer it, and those fierce eyes glared back up at Gaara. He pulled his lips back to seethe at him, baring bloody teeth as he did so. "Kill me if you think you must," he shouted over the storm, pain laced into his voice this time, his demeanor finally breaking. "But this won't ever change what you are!"

Gaara, though struggling to control it, still held his patience. He watched with cold disinterest as his adversary tried to pull himself from the encroaching sand, watching the fear bubble up in his eyes, watching him finally succumb to panic. Then he saw what he had been waiting for. The faintest blue flashes shown around the man's hands as he tried to pull himself from the sand's grip, intent on shocking his way out no doubt.

Gaara had other plans.

The ground around the man's feet sprang to life with little needles shooting up from the sand. Within a moment they split, the end of each needle breaking off into the three separate prongs. For a moment, as his opponent rested his eyes on the needles before him, the space between the prongs sparked and cracked, tiny threads of electricity dancing in-between them.

Finally, with plenty of fruitful places to land, the charge in the air burst forth from the sky. Shattering the darkness of the storm, a brilliant flare of white; blinding and nearly deafening with the thunderous boom that quickly followed the flash, flooded over the battlefield. A streak of lightening, sizzling and crackling with electricity, shot down through the eye of the storm as it found the little rods scattered around its target. The charge surged through him and, for a moment, the only thing visible beyond that burst of light was a broken silhouette as the man burned. Gaara quickly drew a hand, shielding his eyes from the bright light, as was slammed with a surge to his system, a lively jolt to his nerves as the static dissipated around him.

Even before his eyes adjusted from the flash, Gaara had noticed the smell. It nearly burned his nose from the strength of it and his whole face reacted to the foul stench that flooded the air. Gaara secured his scarf back over his nose and threw out an arm, the winds of the storm losing their inertia as he did so, and within a moment the sand began to fall back to the ground, unable to stay aloft in the slowing air.

As the winds died and the sand settled, Gaara stared at the man on the ground, slumped at the waist, still held by his sand. He was smoldering. His cloak and other clothes had charred, burning right down to the skin in some places, and lazy trails of smoke floated up from his singed and blackened skin. The air swelled with the smell of burning flesh and hair, threatening to turn even Gaara's stomach. He paused a moment, settling his heart and trying to ignore the cackle in his mind upon seeing the fried man on the ground, and instead listened for any trace of a heartbeat.

There was none.

Even under the powerful boom of the lightening, even under the sizzle and pop of the static that had invaded the quiet desert, Gaara had heard nothing from the man as he met his end. Not a curse, not a plea, not even a scream. He had died a soldier's death on the battlefield; dignified in his defeat, and without so much a sound.

Gaara released the corpse of his sand, watching as the body fell fully to the ground with a dull thud, and was settled now, knowing that it was over. This man, at least, was no longer a threat.

The winds had died, no longer influenced by the movements of his sand in the air, and the desert had almost gone back to normal. The dunes looked a little different than they had when he'd first arrived, but he was sure no one would notice. A crackle from around his neck brought his attention back to himself. His cloak was windblown, his hair had fallen haphazardly over his goggles, and the radio he brought crackled with the banter of unsuccessful transmissions. He figured that his sister would be trying to reach him, he had been waiting for it ever since that beast had heard the distress beacon given off by his home, and felt a little bad for drawing up so much static and cutting their reception to each other. Guilt threatened him as he listened to the static of empty airwaves, knowing it had most likely caused her so much worry, but he pushed such feelings aside. He shook his cloak once to rid it of any residual static and turned his back on the man on the ground. His lifeless body was still smoldering, still reeking. With a steady hand, he pulled his scarf from around his face and took a breath to shake any adrenaline fueled waver from his voice.

Knowing that he needed to establish contact with his sister he cracked his knuckles, giving himself some quiet from the voice in his head that rejoiced at the smell of singed flesh and begged him for more. Gaara stared off toward home, a new anxiety replacing the one quelled by a battle fought and won, and prepared himself for whatever bad news Temari would have in store for him.

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"Pacing like this truly doesn't become of you," Sakura spoke with a sigh. Her response was a very quick and hard glance from Temari. She spared only a moment to look her way, though, then she was back to her pacing.

She had her fingers to her lips, she'd been chewing on her nails ever since Kankuro left with the two rogues, and she paced briskly around the conference room. She had shut herself in here with Sakura, intent on keeping a personal eye on her and refused to take part in the questioning of her subordinate. Not so soon anyway. She didn't trust herself to take that confession with any sort of level head. So now she waited with waning patience for her brother to come back with results. And even less patience for her other brother to respond to her numerous failed attempts to raise him. Sakura found it curious, seeing Temari like this, as the last time they had all been together as a team both she and Kankuro had such cocky confidence in their little brother. Now it seemed she was nearly in fits over his prolonged silence from the field. But she couldn't blame Temari, the unexpected static interference had worried Sakura as well.

Her eyes found a far window on the outward facing wall of the tower, high enough to see over the buildings and passed the walls, out into the still and quiet expanse of the desert. What was happening out there?

There was a guard outside the door, he'd been there when they'd arrived, and with a sharp knock, he had effectively startled the two lost in thought within the room. Temari sprang for the door, throwing it open and standing tense and ready. Kankuro brushed passed her, his face tired and droopy with the lack of sleep, but there was a hardness to his features that Sakura settled on. He didn't look at all happy. He gave himself a chair, sitting down rather unceremoniously, and crossed his arms stiffly over his chest.

"What is it?" Temari breathed, her hands balling into nervous fists at her sides, her eyes set on her brother.

"Nothing good."

Her response hadn't come from Kankuro though, it had come from behind her and it caused Sakura to quake with a sudden chill. She had thought she had heard Kankuro talking with someone, a deep and authoritative voice had responded to him from the hallway several times. She had also thought she heard someone yell, trying to intimidate the troubled youth into giving up their fellow conspirators.

This person had been Baki, the Sabaku's old teacher, and he still looked just as mean as ever. His eyes always seemed set in stone, his lips pulled into a tight line, always one bit of annoyance from a full on scowl, and his face was creased with hard lines and sharp angles, a clear testament to the man's fortitude. She had never been given the opportunity to study the man up close, but she had quickly figured that anyone entrusted with Gaara's training needed to be as intimidating as they were clever. It wasn't simple positive or negative reinforcement that Gaara responded to, one needed to be a little more creative than that.

Baki entered the room, demanding command over the few gathered there, and Sakura witnessed the almost physical shift in Temari as he did so; going from betrayed captain to a young student within a moment's time. But those wise and hard eyes of his didn't rest on Temari, instead, they shifted that icy stare over to Sakura.

She tried not to visibly swallow.

"You've caused quite the ruckus, Miss Haruno." His voice was deep, deeper than she remembered, and as he crossed his arms tightly over his chest she suddenly felt like a child again, getting scolded by her father. She felt herself shrink back a bit, but did her best to stay professional.

"It has not been my intent," she responded, her voice a little smoother than she had anticipated, not that she was about to complain. "I tried to run, give them a chance to rethink their actions."

He nodded with a huff. "From what I've gathered you gave them several."

"That's correct," she agreed with a nod.

He paused, seeming to ignore the wary gazes of his students while he looked Sakura over. There was nothing suggestive about the way he held her gaze, it was as if he were sizing her up, searching for some answer to a question he'd never asked. "You could have just as easily taken them before getting all scuffed up, why the attempt to flee?"

Sakura felt her brow twitch in confusion. The question was a strange one, she wasn't expecting to be asked why she _hadn't_ beaten the two earlier. But given the man's gaze, it wasn't really the answer he was studying. It was just _her_. "There was no way for me to know the extent of their abilities, I didn't consider it wise to engage them." Sakura's flickered to Temari, but her eyes were focused on her teacher, not noticing this bit of attention.

Baki, however, had been waiting for something like this. "And?" he pressed, knowing full well that Sakura had only spoken half of her answer.

Temari's eyes found her then, awaiting her response with strained patience. "And…I didn't wish for anything pertaining my involvement to reflect poorly on Temari or her abilities as a captain." She took a breath, trying her best to sound as sincere as she felt. "Look, we're all still adjusting, trying to make do the best we can with what happened. It can't _all_ go smoothly, no one _really_ agrees one single thing, and the only effect to be certain of is that there will always be resistance." She quieted, her eyes shuffling around the floor before they finally met a deep, almost oceanic blue. Temari said nothing, only waited for her words to come. "I'm sorry…for all of this."

It seemed as though she didn't have the words to respond, and maybe with her hard ass of a teacher in the same room, she really didn't. But she did pause a moment as if trying to convey something with her eyes, before she nodded as acceptance of this apology.

Baki watched this exchange, something curious and analytical playing across his features as he did, but soon his eyes rested solidly on Sakura again. "Your story checks out, they confessed to planning on using you as some type of collateral against the Hokage." Sakura let out a sigh, an even mixture of guilt and disappointment settling over her. "They've given up some names, not many though."

"Of course," she said in return. The words slipping out past her lips as if responding to something so painfully obvious. Baki hesitated, deciding to let her say what might have been on her mind. "Well I've only been here two days, and they are only young men, don't give them too much credit. Thrown together at the last minute, I assume?"

This earned a low chuckle from the man. Whether it was her perception or the way she had arched a brow at him, she didn't know, but it seemed to alleviate some of the tension between them. "Yes," he agreed. "Rather last minute."

"With my team already dispatched, I doubt they felt they had time for any strategized attempt, just acts of desperation. Blind patriotism under the pretense of falsified information, bogus missions, and the orders of a known terrorist. Sometimes such drastic measures seem like the only answer." He nodded as he listened to her, his brow pulling together in intrigue as she spoke. "I won't press charges against them," she said after a moment of thought. "I trust you will make this right however you see fit."

Temari and Kankuro both shared a wide eyed glance before setting sites more fully on Sakura.

She shrugged in response to the stares, looking up to level her eyes with Baki, her tone casual and kind. "I'd imagine you'd want your militia knowing that betraying alliances – even on a personal level – won't be tolerated by the government. Regardless of what foreign entities might say about it."

Baki paused a moment, once again eyeing her over, sizing her up, but with new – less critical – eyes. He nodded, though more so to himself. "Of course," he said, peering over to Temari. Something shifted on his face, something Sakura couldn't quite place, but was crucial to that stoic mask of indifference he wore so well. "Any word yet?"

Temari shook her head, her hand absentmindedly reaching for her lips before she caught herself and recoiled quickly. "Nothing yet. I'm set to try again in ten minutes."

Baki shared a glance between his students. He placed a hand on Temari's shoulder, though only for a moment, then it was back at his side again. The gesture was so simple, so mundane, but the way it looked now, it seemed a rarity. "I'll leave you to it then."

He nodded once to her, then again to Kankuro as he turned for the door. It was only after the door shut that Sakura felt the pressure give way in the room. She resisted letting out a steadying breath, forgetting how intimidating the man had seemed, and thanked her ability to stave off that nervous waver in her voice when duty called. Her eyes flew to the two across the table. Kankuro was still slouched in his seat, his eyes gazing down to some empty space on the floor, his thoughts god only knew how many miles away. Temari resumed chewing her nails, her back turned to her brother as she rested against the back of his chair, looking to the other window, the faintest etches of worry pulling at her fair features.

For a moment Sakura wondered if this is what it had always been like for those two. Waking up to panic, their brother lost to them in one way or another, and restless with worry. From the edge of her sight, Sakura watched Temari's eyes flicker to the radio every so often as if her brain heard the creaking of the old building as the crackle of a transmission. She recalled hearing something about how the powers that be, after realizing their mistake in trying to bond the sand demon with a human host, had attempted to wipe their slate clean. Gaara had been a child when they had decided he needed to die. It still made her uneasy to think of it, unsure how any sort of good or righteous man could condone such things, and seeing his family now…it made her wonder. How many times that these two stayed waiting just as they were now, never really knowing if this time would be the final time?

She thought of reaching out to them, telling them that she was worried too, that she felt the guilt of their situation, but her words died on her tongue. What good would her condolence do them?

Sakura shifted her attention from them, suddenly feeling that the unease pooling around those two at the other end of the room was too private, too personal for her eyes. But with no distraction for her min, she inevitably turned to worry as well. What was happening? Why the sudden interference? Did Gaara need help? Was it already too late, did they need to prepare for a fight to come their way? Sakura thought back, to not too long ago, back at Temari's house. There had been a rumble from beneath the ground and the more she thought about it the more it became real, not just a fuzzy figment of her rattled brain. But it wasn't the memory that made it so real, it was the _familiarity_ of it.

It took her a little thought to properly place that feeling, but eventually, it had become clear. It reminded her of what she felt when she and Gaara had traveled together, broken down and cruising through the sands. The realization had struck her so suddenly that she contemplated telling Temari about the experience – she wanted answers, confirmation – but thought it best to keep such inquiries to herself. With everything else Temari was worrying about she figured it would only raise more questions than it would answer.

But the more Sakura thought about it, the more she realized that she'd never felt so close to someone. Maybe not emotionally, she had her friends and family for that, but in some sort of strange physical sense. Something she couldn't see, yet she could still touch. She had been helpless to the whims of another and yet still so trusting. It was a queer sensation very much unlike anything she had ever felt, whether it be pain or pleasure, and it left her nerves dazed and frazzled, her thoughts fuzzy and dreamlike as she tried to recall the experience. But beyond that, however, she had also felt that monster in the distance. As her body broke down, unable to do anything but hold on just a little longer, she had felt it peer over at her and remembered well how it chilled her. But she had also felt how it was separate from Gaara himself. It was something ominous and ambiguous in the dark, far reaches of the whipping sand. She doubted Gaara saw the difference anymore, or that he could even tell where he ended and that thing began.

But Sakura could tell.

By the arm that held her waist and the sense of steadfast tenacity pressed against her side, she had very clearly felt the difference.

The experience confused her because she knew she hadn't truly _seen_ anything, but she _felt_ she had. She felt she had seen the separation of man and beast, seen a glimpse of who he was when he stood alone, something no one else had witnessed. She had first thought it merely an illusion of her weary mind after he had rescued her from the clutches of the desert. The heat, the dehydration, it wouldn't have been the first strange thing to cross her mind out there. But when he supported her after the attack in the market, his demeanor hard yet his touch so steadying, she had been able to see an echo of that glimpse out here, in the physical world. Then he had swallowed them up, without so much as a protest on her part, and that time she had clung to him. It had all sounded so windy, though behind it all she could hear the broken fragments of a deep chuckle paired with some strange sensations of something brushing against her bloody leg, almost like a magnetic tug. It had struck fear through her – deeply rooted and instinctual fear – but it felt as though Gaara only secured his hold, banishing that shrouded menace back to its accursed depths.

She knew she'd never have the guts to tell him, or anyone really, and she'd be far too embarrassed to ever ask, but she couldn't help wondering if – maybe when the world was swallowed up by the sand, scattering her bits to the mercy of another – perhaps she had looked different, _felt_ different, too.

Sakura sighed, tired of herself and these silly thoughts. She slouched in her seat, looking down to the pattern of the woodgrain in front of her. She traced the circles and swirling loops with a lazy finger, trying anything to distract her from her thoughts, her questions, her guilt.

But soon, rather unexpectedly, the faintest of sounds drew the attention of all three of them, coming from the little table by the window.

"…Temar – … – aara…come in."

Within a moment the two across the table burst forth, abruptly enough to almost knock over a chair as Temari moved for the radio. She snatched it up, her fingers pressing the button to speak before she even lifted the microphone to her lips. She nearly choked as she responded, her voice squeaking out in poorly managed relief as her eyes flew to the window, to the desert that lay beyond.

"Gaara?"

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×


	15. Part 15

I do not own NARUTO

* * *

Follow the Sun, Part 15

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

The stress in air was practically palpable as Gaara stood by the window, his blank expression turned toward the dark city and the windblown desert that lay beyond. He did a good job at hiding it, but with his lips pressed tightly together, his knuckles turned white from gripping his crossed arms, and the rather obvious strain on his shoulders, it was clear that something was eating at him. Though Sakura didn't know quite what, for some reason or another; he was pissed.

It hadn't surprised anyone, his family was used to this foul mood of his and Sakura had been expecting something of the like given the confession of their subordinate. She and Kankuro had held their breath while Temari relayed the turn in events over the radio. They had only just been able to hear Gaara's responses over the static of the open channel.

"It's done," he had said, a chilling dispassion hung from his voice.

Temari had breathed a sigh of relief, both at his words and the way they were spoken; no urgency, no grunt of pain. It was clear to her that he wasn't harmed. Ever since their last visit to Konoha she had been a little more receptive to the idea of Gaara enduring physical harm, no matter how small the possibility was on average, and she quickly found that she wasn't at all a fan of the idea. To know her brother was returning victorious and unmarred had visibly settled her.

He hadn't given her time to respond, however, and his voice became hard as he spoke over the radio. "What happened at home?" he asked, as much a demand as any Sakura had ever been given, and Temari took a breath as she glanced quickly over to their foreign guest.

She hadn't needed any explanation on how he could have known, both she and Kankuro knew that Gaara had all kinds of little tricks up his sleeve, and knowing that he had been aware of the attack at the house didn't faze her one bit. She spoke surely, her voice taking on the collected trademark of a captain. "Everything is fine," she began. "It was only a little skirmish."

"Over what?" There was no room for tiptoeing around it, he wanted bottom line answers.

She had taken a breath once again after that, this one coming out more like a sigh, and replied to his request. "Makoto and Shiro, they jumped Sakura in the backyard." She tried to keep her voice even, keep herself from showing too much, but Sakura could see that admitting this had shamed Temari. Disappointment wasn't a good enough term for the look that fluttered over her eyes. It was more than that, it went _deeper_ than that. These had been her men, sworn to obey her, taking oaths to serve their country under her guidance, and they had not only turned their back on their government but on her as well. "Kankuro and I were asleep at the time, but we've got it handled. We moved Sakura to the tower for the night and those two have been questioned. They're in holding now."

It was a long pause that followed her transmission, the other end of the channel buzzing with an eerily quiet static. Temari and Kankuro shared a glance with each other, brows pulled together in silent question.

"Gaara?" she had questioned again, weariness clear in her voice.

"I'll be back in under an hour."

It was the only response they were given before the transmission cut out and the line went dead. Temari and Kankuro sat there a moment, an uneasy mixture of trepidation and relief clouding around them as they contemplated their next move. Kankuro decided he was going to catch up on his lost sleep. He showed himself to the guard's sleeping quarters at the other end of the floor. The bunks were thin and impossibly stiff, but it was better than slouching in a chair.

Sakura and Temari were fine to wait for Gaara's return, a thick and quiet silence filled most of their wait. But Gaara arrived within his given timeframe. He debriefed Temari about the situation in the desert, along with their teacher who had rushed back to tower upon the word of Gaara's return. Baki had nearly stormed the restricted level, giving a fright to the guards on post at the doors, and for just a moment Sakura saw a very distinctive flicker of relief on the older man's face. It seemed Gaara's siblings weren't the only ones afflicted when he handled things solo. When they had the details of Gaara's fight, as much as they felt comfortable prying from him at least, Baki had explained the interrogation of Makoto and Shiro. Gaara had stood with his arms stubbornly crossed, leaned against the wall behind him, and his face stoic. It seemed as though nothing changed as Baki relayed the confession, but something in his eyes shifted. They became hard, cold, and calculating. Sakura noticed his nose twitch once, his lips pull into a shallow scowl every now and again, but other than that he had kept his mouth shut. Still a man of few words, it seemed. But Gaara didn't need words, at least not with Sakura, she could _feel_ it, feel _him_. And with the extent of his power and his reserves, there was _a lot_ of him.

After the briefing, Baki had risen from his seat and walked over to Gaara, giving him a certain glance from the side that was difficult for Sakura to see and excused himself from the room. Temari waved him a farewell, and Sakura thought she heard him say something to the man outside the door. Something about rounding up the other hooligans responsible for these late night shenanigans.

Temari wasn't long after him. She had yawned widely, stretching out in her seat like a cat after a nap, and bid her brother and Sakura a good night. "I'm down the hall if you need anything," she had said so nicely, almost too nice, as if she were compensating for something. "Do try and get some sleep."

Sakura had nodded, knowing her heart was in the right place, but she wasn't sure if sleep would find her this night. She wished to be back in her own bed so badly, to hear the quiet breathing of her cat as he dreamed, to hear the whispers of the wind through the trees or the birds in the morning. But she still had things to do before she could enjoy such things. She had another day until her team got to the city, and she was sure they would wish to stay the night to regain their strength and freshen their supplies before heading back across the desert in the morning.

But that still didn't help with what to do with herself now. She was still in the conference room, still sitting in that same chair, and still nearly suffocating on that churning energy that swirled around her. She was alone with Gaara, though she wondered if he even remembered that she was still there. He had moved to the window after Temari left and hadn't even turned from it since. The room was quiet and the only audible sound was the continuous ticking of the second hand on the clock, steadily recording each second that Sakura was too nervous to break the silence between them.

Sakura had stayed here with the intent on properly thanking the man, before she yet again tried to get some sleep, but had instantly found herself tongue tied. How was she to bring it up? It was a matter of great importance to her, she was _alive_ because of him and she wanted him to know that. But perhaps adding too much personal weight to the situation would only push him away. Maybe she would be better off playing it cool, more nonchalant than her normal self. She could have scoffed at the thought, really, for thinking that Gaara wouldn't be able to pick up on her façade. He hadn't lived this long and survived all of those failed assassins just because of his sand shield alone, he was smart too. He could read people, he could notice things that no one else could, he focused on _behind_ the underneath; where no one else would think to look. Even given their finite number of interactions, Gaara was sharp enough to know when she was trying to put on a face…she was rather sure of it anyway.

She looked down to her hands, to where she tugged and rolled her fingers to occupy herself. It was hard to think, she realized, when alone with him in such a confined space. The greenhouse had been different, it had been so much more open than this stuffy little conference room, filled with the fresh smell of water, dirt, and so many plants. In here it was as if she were gasping for air, nearly drowning in the energy that rolled off those tense shoulders of his. She hadn't really noticed the strength of it before, given the way it flowed out from him like a waterfall and flooded over everything in his wake, but in the confines of the room, it seemed to fill to the brim. It was just as she remembered it from all those months ago.

Heavy, as if the closer one got to him the harder gravity pulled them down, with a strange sensation that seemed to float around her gut. She'd always known he was strong, and just as Naruto he had an unnaturally deep well of chakra to take from, she just hadn't felt how _much_ of it he truly had. Naruto's own excessive reserves were locked away, sealed under powerful wards meant to protect not only everyone else from the Fox's power, but protect Naruto from it as well. Gaara had no such seals, his only defense against the continuous onslaught of the Shukaku's power and influence was his own stubborn fortitude. Given how she felt nearly suffocated by simply being in the premises, it was an impressive feat for a mere mortal to obtain.

She closed her eyes and took a breath, steadying herself and trying to solidify her place in this continuous flow of energy around the room. It was like trying to fight against a swiftly moving current that she couldn't see, only feel, and she felt it in every beat of her heart and every breath in her lungs. For once she cursed her ability to so easily sense the chakra of others, she was sure that his siblings weren't suffocated like this on a daily basis. Sometimes such a gift blurred the lines, congested her vision, put a fog over her thoughts, and pushing through the haze to see the world as her master did was something she was still working on.

But as she sat, her eyes closed in concentration, her mind focusing on the way the energy ebbed and flowed through the room as if with a mind of its own, Sakura could have sworn she heard something. She opened her eyes, looking up to find Gaara away from the window.

He had moved, though very quietly as he seemed to always do, and was standing just a few feet away. His arms were still crossed, his face still held the shadows of a scowl, and it was obvious his attention was towards her…but he wouldn't look at her.

She _had_ heard something, though it hadn't been him.

It was his sand. The quiet shuffling had been the sand stirring in the guard as it leaned against the wall, slowly churning in its confines as it resonated with its master's emotions. It sounded like slithering to Sakura, as if it were alive, and now that she could pinpoint the source she noticed that it slowly rocked back and forth against the wall. Just little shifting motions, nothing bold enough to immediately catch an eye, but it was enough to slightly unnerve her. She imagined it took a while to get used to the way the sand reacted around Gaara, intentionally or not.

But with Gaara standing before her now, all tense and threatening to burst with lord only knew what, she simply sat in her seat, tucking her braced ankle under her good one, and waited patiently for him to speak. It seemed clear to her that he wanted to…but perhaps didn't really know how. She hoped she looked calm, or at worst just a little tired, but her heartbeat suddenly felt heavy, not necessarily fast, but as though it thumped harder, resonated deeper within her body. Sakura was almost positive her outward appearance would only betray her, but she kept face either way.

"I apologize for this evening," he finally said, his voice coming out a little rougher than she would have expected. He had practically mumbled it, as if embarrassed, perhaps that had been it.

"It's not your fault," she replied with a slight shake to her voice, the smooth control she once had suddenly gone. _Shit_.

He didn't move, but his eyes snapped up at her upon hearing this. It was almost overwhelming for her, to try and catch everything that flashed in those azure depths before he looked away. Surprise, apprehension, and just before his eyes fell again…had that been suspicion? He cleared his throat as he ran a hand through his hair, brushing his short crimson locks from his face. Sakura caught a glimpse of his tattoo…well, a rather attractive looking scar would be a better name, but she quickly averted her eyes, not knowing how polite it was to stare at it. She'd almost forgotten he had it, it seemed his hair had grown, hanging down to cover it, especially with his goggles on. How had she not noticed that before?

"Perhaps not entirely." His eyes were on the floor again, his brow tensed, his mind miles away from what was in front of him. Sakura didn't ask for him to elaborate, it seemed he was gearing up to do that himself. "It seems your attacker had stopped perusing you, even in the market it was merely a rouse to extort some controversy."

Sakura felt her words slip out as she watched him. "Oh, I see." Her voice was quiet, hardly there to her own ears as she studied his eyes. They still looked at the floor, though he seemed to see something beyond what she could. That expression that hung off his features was so calculating, so focused, and for just that moment – before sense caught up with her – she wondered what it would have been like if he had turned those same eyes on her.

He grimaced, a response to a silent thought she hadn't heard. "I shouldn't have left."

"They were orders," she responded, the words flowing naturally from her lips. She had heard this too many times before, the whole survivor's guilt, or any degree of it, and she wasn't about to have it happen on her behalf, not while she was still breathing. "You did as you were told."

He scoffed, the first bit of raw emotion he had shown since arriving, and shook his head. He looked back up at her then, but that calculative look he had was gone, replaced by something shallower than before. "That's not what I do…it's not why I'm here."

Sakura nodded readily, this fluid response seemed to make him hesitate. "I know," she agreed, taking a breath to voice her previous observations. "You're an intelligent man, Gaara, and a mind like yours isn't built to blindly follow orders. You're meant to think outside the box, look between the lines…see what no one else can. But still, they were orders and they served a purpose."

He eyed her then and something seemed to shift in the energy that washed over her. It was sudden, so sudden she needed a moment to maintain her reserve, but it was thick with what felt like apprehension, perhaps it was that suspicion again. Gaara looked back to the floor, still unsure of himself when dealing with someone so effortlessly open with him, but not before his gaze landed on that brace hugging her ankle. He suddenly felt angry, as much for her as for himself. He'd felt a fool after hearing that man ramble on, realizing that her injury had quite literally been just for show, and he'd fallen for it.

As had others in his sister's circle, it seemed.

He tried to steady himself, to calm that beast that always tried to embellish on his already rocky temper. He had his suspicions, but it had become clear that Sakura was indeed as talented as her report had said. He almost felt bad for her because he knew how overwhelming a power source such as a demon could be, there had been others in his past that he'd chased out of rooms simply because they couldn't stand his presence, it had normally worked out in their favor. But now, seeing as he was already far away from his comfort zone – which was a generously healthy distance from most anything that breathed – that beast in his head was keeping tabs on Sakura's heart. It wasn't about to let Gaara overlook her nervousness, not when it could be used against him. The deep, rhythmic beating was heavy, labored with fatigue and a bit of healthy anxiety given her current company. His temper had flared and her heart had fluttered, guaranteeing that she had felt it, and he tried his best to dial it back. After all, she seemed to be trying just as hard for his sake, though he'd do himself a favor and not attempt to wrap his mind around that now.

There was a silence that stretched between them, something the likes of awkward yet…almost determined. The ticking of the wall clock suddenly seemed excessively loud in his opinion.

Then she spoke again, her voice was quiet, nearly lost by that infernal ticking, and it was soft with sincerity. "Makoto and Shiro weren't your fault." It nearly broke him.

He took a breath, intent on countering her words, but he remembered the night before when he'd found her in the greenhouse sitting on a ledge of moss of all things. It had seemed a pointless effort then, and he assumed the same for now. He resolved to change his tactics. "Still, I'm sorry. I understand that Shiro is…easily charmed by women."

He risked a glance at her face and instantly wished she hadn't. Her expression was rather dead pan, but the little tug at the corners of her lips told him she was struggling to hold back a smile…he knew it, he'd made a fool of himself.

" _Charmed_ …" Sakura began, failing a little this time to hold back that grin. "I'd like to think I'm so charming, but…you needn't put it lightly. And you also don't have to apologize for him, you've done enough. For me and for everyone." She looked down at her hands again, Gaara took a moment to study the way she fidgeted with her fingers. "Listen, Gaara," she mumbled after a moment. "You left so soon after taking me back to the hospital that I never got the chance to thank you. Rouse or not…no one else could have gotten to me in time, in the market I mean. And then tonight, with Temari and her squad I…" Sakura sighed, her brow pulling together in dejection before her voice softened to something reminiscent of that guilt he was still trying to make sense of. "I'm sorry I brought all this on you, on everyone, I just –"

"Regardless of your circumstance, it was wrong of my people, of my _squad_ , to behave this way."

"I don't just mean that, though," she countered, her voice coming out strong this time. "I'm talking about everything! It's been two days and your town is nearly drowning in gossip, your dragging men in for questioning, dealing with treachery and treason..." She sighed again, her words suddenly falling short of everything she felt, and she looked sullenly to the floor, a quick thud of her brace to emphasize her point. "Maybe I should have just stayed out there, maybe calling for help was the wrong thing to do. It seems to have only created conflict and controversy."

Gaara studied her, a little captivated by the way her features moved when she was frazzled. It was like reading an open book, every movement of her brow, every twitch of her lips and nose, it all directly correlated to a thought or a feeling. He figured it like a road map to her inner workings and, for a moment, he wondered in maybe one day he'd have that map memorized. But this time the road only led down, to a dark place of questioning self-worth and resorting to self-loathing. He'd been there plenty times himself, he knew the signs of it in others.

"This isn't your fault, Sakura," he said, attempting – and failing he was sure – to sound something the likes of…comforting.

She snorted, those emerald eyes of hers flickering up at him before looking scornfully to the side. "Yeah," she scoffed. " _Right_."

He took a breath, his lips suddenly planted shut, and started to lose faith in his ability to formulate the proper words. He took a moment and looked to the side, thinking of anything he might say, what was needed to say. Looking back over at her from the corner of his eye, he noticed her looking back out the window, noticed the way her brows pinched together, how her breathing seemed harder now. To Gaara, it was an obvious tell that she had been harboring this confliction for a while, perhaps since she first set foot in the city, relying on the generosity of strangers to survive. It wasn't the soldier's way. Soldiers relied on their brothers in arms, their family on the field, they did not lean on those they had sworn oaths to protect.

And Sakura? Well, he'd have to be a blind idiot to not see how much harder it was for her. He had seen it in his sister, after all, and it had been a long and hard road to watch her journey, and she wasn't nearly done with it. As a woman in the political world, filled with stigmas and condescension, she had needed to fight tooth and nail, to endure criticism and constant doubts about her abilities. She'd needed to work harder than he and Kankuro and needed to in order to get half as far, she had to know when to fight back, when to hold her tongue, and when to throw in the towel. There were still those that whispered behind her back about her promotion, sneered comments about incompetence or getting it handed to her simply because of who her father was. Gaara ignored these ignorant whispers wherever he heard them – if he didn't, people would die – he was sure of it. Her position had been rightfully earned, she had worked hard, proved herself, and played a little dirty to get what she wanted, and Gaara wouldn't allow her name to be slandered if he could help it. So, given that his previous arsenal of problem-solving skills included, but was not limited to, tactics of fear and murder, he chose to let her handle these little bouts of gossip.

And here was Sakura, a young woman, fare faced and ripe with potential, standing on the precipice of everything. He remembered the way her team dynamic had looked when they first met. It was Sasuke and Naruto in constant competition. Not that it was a bad thing, healthy sportsmanship can bring out wonders in a man, but this petty rivalry teetered on moronic given how easily it distracted them from an objective. It had obviously distracted them from her, at least where it counted anyway. Naruto could drool over her all he wanted and Sasuke could keep on dismissing her as dead weight, but Gaara wanted to take a different road.

He wished he'd paid more attention during those exams, seen the way her knowledge and love for learning had shown through. He had been no better than Sasuke back then, seeing nothing more than a bubbly little girl with damn near nothing to offer. And now, looking at her, feeling the way her chakra pulsed, the way her heart fluttered, he knew he'd been a fool. There was so much more to her, so much beneath the surface that anyone could see if they only looked with right eyes. But she was fighting too, fighting every day, every practice, just to assert herself as an equal of her team. To make a name for herself beyond those expressive eyes of hers that seemed prone to showing too much emotion, beyond that biological clock ticking inside her body that men seemed to scorn for some reason, and beyond those tedious hurdles that women proved their worth over. He thought about this for a moment, appreciating the way she looked when seen in a new light, and decided that she did indeed have much to prove to those who would doubt her. It would be a challenge, though, because of the path she walked and the expectations set on her; there would be _many_ who doubted her.

Gaara pulled himself from his musings, returning to the task at hand. She was still upset, still sour about whatever it was that she was sour about, and – seeing as how she had initiated their little chat by not fleeing the room at the first chance – he figured he'd do his best to comfort her.

He said nothing, only moved from his spot with quiet footsteps, and he took the seat next to her. He gave them a buffer chair, a solid bit of wood and cloth to separate them. He hadn't intended on continuing with anything since he'd lost himself in his thoughts and could hardly think of what to say. He hoped his quiet company would be enough, it was the best he could do and still be confident in himself.

Sakura glanced over at him, he kept his eyes front, watching the clock on the wall as the hands slowly moved, keeping diligent track of every passing second they sat in that room alone. She didn't quite know what to do, what to say, or what would even be necessary. He had sat quietly next to her, a stranger, an enemy of his past, with such quiet content she hardly recognized him. It was rather suddenly that she was overcome with a great urge to tell him what she had felt the day he rescued her from the desert. She felt he needed to know that she had not been afraid, that she had truly felt the distinction between man and beast, that he wasn't what he thought. But again, those words died on her tongue, her resolve breaking even before it formed, filling her throat with choking doubt.

Gaara had noticed her glance, much like he always did, but drew no attention to it. He had his own thoughts to contemplate, though he didn't know how similar their inner struggles truly were. He too had felt the difference in his travel when he took her with him. He hadn't been alone in that void, and even as they scattered across the desert, or when they weaved through the streets of the city to the hospital, he had felt her pressed against him. It had been so real, so physical even though there was no actual body clinging to his side. And that was another thing, something that he couldn't wrap his mind around. She had _clung_ to him. Not just touched him but pulled him closer. He'd known that beast would only make a grab for her after her injury and it had left him stupefied to feel her calm and almost relax as he warded the demon back to its loathsome depths. Then at the hospital, with her foot still bloody, her leg still punctured with little holes from those long thorns that had sunk into her tender flesh, they had rematerialized in the lobby.

There had been gasps and shuffled feet as people fled from the immediate area, the course sound of chairs skidding across the tile, and oh so many gaping stares. She had been battered, dirtied from being dragged over the sandy ground, and dripping little droplets of blood here and there. It was an extraordinarily unexpected sight. And to see her cling to him, an arm around her waist to support her, her hands clutching his shirt in a tight fist…well, it was no wonder people were talking. Then the nurses came, he had heard muttered radio chatter calling for Chiyo, and they instantly went to work. They had spoken surely, with trained patience and reserve, telling Sakura to let go, to come with them. But she had hesitated, the fist on his shirt clenching tighter for a moment, her weight pressing on him even though she didn't truly need his support. He hadn't been prepared for what such a simple act as that had done to him and he supposed that was why he fled the hospital so quickly. The council had been an excuse, they would wait patiently for him no matter what since it wasn't considered a smart idea to scold him for his punctuality. Truthfully, if he humbled himself enough to admit it, he had needed space between them after being so close. He needed to not feel that flutter of her heart as she worked through the adrenaline, to not feel the way her chakra flared and pulsed under her administrations.

It had been so personal, too personal, and he was at a loss for what to do with himself. The initial feeling of smug pride as those stunned eyes stared them down in shocked disbelief had made way for a cold wave of harsh reality. It made him question his actions, his history with her, and so much more. Gaara was still at a loss, even now as he sat next to her in a silence that she seemed pleasantly content with, and wondered how Naruto would have spoken to her. Or perhaps Temari, it seemed they were getting along just fine, maybe he should take pointers from her. Sakura had forgiven him with such effortless ease, spoken to him as if he were any other average man, and had called to him for help. Even among all those people there had been no shame or apprehension, no fear to inhibit her.

It made him wonder. If she could do such a thing, a foreigner his country had betrayed and he had tried to kill, perhaps it wasn't so blindly hopeful of him to think that others could learn to do the same. Just sitting here, basking in the warmth of her pleasant company, was enough to give him a sliver of hope.

She shuffled at his side, causing him to look over at her and see her rise from her chair to move to the window. She walked with a bit of a limp thanks to that brace, but he noticed that she didn't favor the foot at all, and was capable of bearing her full weight as she shifted back and forth on her feet. He heard her sigh as she leaned forward, resting her palms against the window sill, and stared up at the starry sky.

"Gaara?" she asked, her eyes never turning from the speckled sky. "Where's the Orion constellation? I can't see it."

He rose from his seat at the sound of his name, quickly and quietly coming to stand by her side and peer out the window. It was no wonder to him that she couldn't see it, she was used to looking up at a different sky, from at a different perspective oriented hundreds of miles away. He wasn't sure exactly why he had so suddenly complied with her question, perhaps it was because of the pure intrigue behind her voice, or the way his name had rolled so smoothly from her lips without the slightest bit of hesitation.

"Over there," he said, pointing an arm toward the correct direction. She couldn't see it at first, couldn't pinpoint the correct grouping in his general pointing to the sky. She leaned in a little, to bring herself into his line of sight and see where he was looking. Her shoulder nudged his chest, her hair hovered under his nose, wafting the scent of her shampoo to his senses. She felt warm even through the space between them, still an enigmatic radiance of life, and he drank in the gentle current of her chakra.

"Oh, I see it now."

He nodded, though she wasn't facing him to see it, and for a moment he leaned in, causing her shoulder to bump him again. She didn't shift away and only continued to watch the twinkling sky. "Just above it is Taurus and Gemini, to the east is Aries, and then that one," he said, gesturing to the sky as Sakura strained to see what he pointed to. "That's Venus, the evening star."

She seemed to sigh as she stood there, so inexplicably close to him, and her voice came out dreamy, wistful, and almost melodic. "You know, I never knew how beautiful the desert could truly be. I've never seen so many stars in the city."

"Yes, I noticed Konoha's light pollution." She quietly snickered at this, perhaps it had been the disappointed drawl to his voice that amused her. "It's even better in the open desert."

"You'll have to show me sometime," she replied, her eyes still glued to the sky, not noticing the way Gaara's breathing caught in his throat.

He hadn't expected such an open invitation, and one that so greatly involved the both of them miles from civilization. He swallowed, suddenly nervous, and tried to work past the stubborn lump in his throat. "Maybe," he said, the word coming out a little more rushed than he would have preferred. "You should get some sleep, Sakura."

She shook her head, taking a moment to turn those emerald eyes back at his. "No, that's okay. I'd rather stay here."

What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

She seemed to ponder something, her lips pursing slightly in thought, her brow pulling together as she stared at the stars. "Tell me about nomadic mythology."

"There's a lot to tell," he responded, his voice dead pan and flat, hoping it might detour her from the subject.

She simply turned to him, her eyes, though tired with darkening circles under them, were bright and that small smile that pulled at her lips only accentuated the pleasantness of her features. "No matter. I've got plenty of time, and a good story might even put me to sleep" She smiled a little more fully then, a crooked and off center smirk that, for a moment at least, he found rather endearing. It reminded him of his sister's notorious grin.

Gaara nodded, obliging her request for some mediocre entertainment, and once again turned his eyes to the window, to the quiet desert in the distance, and to all the mysteries and fabled tales that arose from that vast and nearly untouched depths of those sands. The desert was said to be a lot of things, ranging from the devil's furnace to the land of enchantment, a barren wasteland but also a world of stark and undeniable beauty. He knew of some things that might amuse her, stories of lost cities with streets paved in gold, gods of the sands that devoured unlucky travelers, and all the magic in the world.

"Have you ever heard of jinns?"

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×


	16. Part 16

Follow the Sun, Part 16

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

"I mean it, Sakura, you really don't have to."

She simply shrugged in response. "I don't mind."

Temari sighed, her pace quickening to keep up with Sakura. She may have been young, not yet fully grown, but she had long legs and they could definitely take her places, even with that brace. "I _mean_ that it's not your responsibility."

"No, it's not," Sakura agreed, glancing over at her companion as they walked the streets. It was early morning, the high walls cast long shadows over the buildings and streets, the low sun kept the air cooler than what would be expected, and the two walked in solitude while the rest of the city slept. "But that doesn't mean I won't support you."

Temari tried to repress her groan. She'd lost count of how many times she'd sighed or groaned in frustration already this morning, not even two hours into her day and she was already contemplating throwing in the towel. She supposed that's why Sakura had said what she did, after all, neither of them was looking forward to what was to happen next.

It was the final day of the run cycle for Temari's team and they were all waiting for her atop the walls at their scouting post. Well…almost all of them. The other conspirators of Makoto and Shiro had been rounded up the night before. There had been an extra three of them, five altogether, but not all of them came from Temari's team. Two of the extra three were from another scouting party while the third was another one of her own. She was down three men today, three traitorous and asinine men. She still felt the bitterness of her disappointment with them bubble up her throat every now and again, it turned her stomach and tasted like bile.

But she would have to swallow that bitterness and face the remaining loyal party of her team. She doubted they knew of their partners' actions, doubted they understood why they were running late. Gossip may have traveled fast but things that happened in the dead of night took time to gain traction. She would have to break the news to them herself.

Sakura had offered to be with her when she did, to stand by her side as a foreigner still trusting of her allies, to put a face to the victim. "It'll be fine."

Temari bit the inside of her lip, rolling it between her teeth in worried thought. Would it all be fine? What if more of her team only fell in line behind those who had turned against her? She was a captain, and as such, she had to expect a certain amount of insubordination. Part of being a good team was every member being able to function independently and think for themselves, but such independence was closely shadowed by disobedience. She'd always known that at one point or another someone on her team would go against her word, though, she had always hoped that it would have been for the betterment of a mission or to selflessly protect fellow soldiers or innocent. She hadn't expected it to be a defiance such as this.

They reached the path leading up to the walls. The paths that crisscrossed the inner faces of the walls were guarded, not at all accessible by average civilians less someone trip and fall over the edge or try something too daring, and the two girls had to pause for clearance before being allowed to continue. It was more so directed towards Sakura than Temari since the majority of higher ranking officers and captains knew Temari's face well, but soon enough they were on their way. The path up to the top was a twisted switchback road that felt like it took much too long to go far too little distance. But as they broke the second tier of stone, where the road leveled out to encircle the city before starting up the wall again, Sakura looked out to the expanse of sandstone buildings. They cast long and looming shadows on the western walls, and along with them, she noticed little shadows here and there, moving about slowly, without haste. The guard shifts were changing and the trails to the different posts were becoming populated by little dots in the distance.

It seemed otherworldly from this bird's eye view; an alien city in an alien land coming to life before her eyes.

Sakura's brace hindered her little as they continued on, she had healed nicely and the brace was merely a precaution at this point. But with the tendon feeling tight and sore as she stepped, she figured she'd keep its support for another day. Though, she did rewrap it so she could properly wear her sandals while it secured her ankle. They continued up the path in silence, occasionally Temari would nod her head to a passerby, a subtle acknowledgment that felt far from personal whenever her eyes met with another's, however briefly. Sakura's heart started to flutter in her chest, a sudden bout of nervousness at the thought of standing before Temari's team as a foreign ally attacked by their own men. She wondered what they would think, how they would look at her, what they would say. She tried to seem confident and level headed for Temari, the poor woman had enough on her plate as it was, but as they drew closer to the post, Sakura felt the familiar weight of uncertainty bubble up in her chest. She took a breath, trying to calm her heart, and reminded herself that Temari was a friend and that, no matter what, she would have her back.

Even though the road was tedious and the walk had been a long one for so early in her day, Sakura suddenly missed the sparsely populated trails when her eyes fell on Temari's team. They were all waiting at attention, standing in neat rows, hands clasped behind their backs, faces stern and ready for orders. Temari walked up to them, stopping a few paces in front of them and standing there a moment. Sakura stopped as well, but she gave Temari a good distance between them, and she stood quietly in the background as she waited for Temari to address her team. She placed her hands behind her back, the blues of her eyes sweeping over the faces of her scouts, and to Sakura, it almost seemed as though she were looking for something. Perhaps she was evaluating their faces as they awaited what she would say, to see if anyone looked guilty before she even said anything.

There was a long and silent minute that followed, the lack of words from their captain visibly chilling over the whole group. After this minute she took a breath, looked to the ground as she stepped forward, and finally spoke.

"If you've looked around your team at all this morning you will have noticed that there are those of this squad that have failed to join us. I also know that some of you may already be aware of why they won't be here today. If you've heard the rumors, then yes, they are true." Murmurs followed her words. Sakura noticed a few faces in attendance turn to each other, quick glances of confusion and question. "For those of you that haven't heard, or would like proper details, I believe you all have a right to know."

Once again everyone fell silent, completely captivated by curiosity and trepidation.

"I'm sure you have all heard plenty about our guest," she said, gesturing back to Sakura for a breath. "After the fiasco in the market yesterday, Sakura was given asylum in my home and was to spend the night with Kankuro and I." Yet again, murmurs punctuated her words. "Last night, just after midnight, Makoto and Shiro came to my home with the intent on causing Sakura grief. The intent of causing her _country_ grief." She stepped forward then, taking an advancing step as if to demonstrate the severity of her words. "I needn't explain why such acts were heinously out of line. Going against the wishes of their captain, against the word of the council, they attacked Sakura on my own property. It seemed they thought an injured foreigner seeking sanctuary was an easy target, but they were given a lesson I'm sure they won't soon forget." She tilted her head back, her eyes moving to Sakura for a moment, and she responded with a sly smirk. She felt the eyes of the scouting party come to rest on her, but she felt no judgement, no suspicion.

"They have been taken to the tower, questioned, and are currently in holding awaiting their sentence. The names of two members of Murtock's group were given up, as well another of our own." Temari paused, letting the news sink into her team and studied their faces as she did. Some only looked to the ground with thinned lips and scrunched brows, others looked questioningly over to Sakura, while the rest just seemed…hurt. She took a breath, something the likes of quiet understanding peeking through her voice. It seemed this grabbed her team's attention more than her strong and confident speaking. "I understand that some of you were friends, that we all knew them well, but what they did – undermining, subterfuge, attacking an ally in cold blood – these things cannot be accepted. They _will not_ be tolerated. This was as much a betrayal of your trust as it is of mine. After what we did…" she began, her eyes yet again falling back to Sakura, nearly brimming with regret. "We should consider ourselves lucky that we still have an ally in the Leaf. I've taught you all that working as a team is better than working alone. The same goes for our countries, for our governments."

"She's right," Sakura added, her voice suddenly capturing the attention of Temari and her team. She stepped forward, glancing quickly to Temari as she did before looking back over the faces of the scouting party. "I am not your enemy, my teacher is not your enemy, and my people – the innocence of my country – are not plotting against you. We swore to protect your people, to fight for your people, to lend our aid and our resources whenever possible. We still abide by this oath. I cannot speak for those in my own forces, but _me_ …I would die for this country. I only wish your brethren had known this before resorting to desperation."

Temari paused a moment as Sakura turned back to her, her lips parted in what seemed like stunned silence, eyes glistening in the morning sun, a flood of emotion she was sure she'd never sort through. Collecting herself, Temari nodded, her face hardening into that perfect mask of confidence and control before she faced her group again. "As I've said," she stated, her tone matching that face of hers perfectly. "Any insubordination of the sort will be handled with swift and ample punishment. Last night was not just a threat to Sakura, their ill-advised attempts for some monetary gain was a threat to us all. Keep this in mind. An alliance between our nations is an alliance between us all. Now," she spoke sharply, the distracted eyes of her team falling on her once again. "Kankuro and Gaara are staying close to the city today so you'll be on your own out there. It's your time to shine, people." She stepped forward, drawing a thin tan folder from the fold of her cloak, and opened it to read. "Niko and Miller," she announced, her eyes scanning the crowded faces for them. They stepped forward, stern and prepared for orders. "You'll both be with me at camp today."

Though she tried not to, Niko looked visibly dejected and Sakura felt she could understand this. Being born to the sands and shifting dunes, this city wasn't as much a home to her as the open desert, and being cooped up at base camp didn't seem a fitting task for her. She shared this bit of frustration with Niko. She had been born in the city, but the forest offered her more of a home than the paved streets and jumbles of electrical cables. Miller went unfazed. As Temari's acting second in command, he often stayed behind to help her strategize and keep track of wind patterns and scouting routes. Choosing the best and safest ways for her team to peruse the desert.

"Teams three and six will take the eastern quadrant, one and two are in the south, western routes will be taken by five and seven, and four and six will take the north. Are we clear?"

The remaining men and women all nodded in response.

Satisfied with this, she nodded to them, placing a finger to the receiver on the radio around her throat. "Radio check." She pressed the button and from the crowd little crackles and pops could be heard as they caught their captain's frequency.

They all clicked back, checking their lines and giving their equipment one final look over. Once finished, with utility belts secured, goggles hanging limply around necks, and emergency supplies handled by a member of each team, they shifted into their assigned groups. Temari passed out a few papers to the individual groups' designated leader. These were maps, the most accurate maps available since the desert saw so much shift and change as the dunes moved across the land. They were lined with different colors indicating the chosen paths for each group's own run and marked with rendezvous points for check ins.

Sakura watched silently as they all prepared to leave, fastening buckles, double checking ties, and coordinating with separate parties. She watched all of this in silence, a new appreciation settling over her as she observed the workings of these people. She had a new understanding of their desert dwelling allies. Things were different out here, a simple scouting run, one done a thousand times before, had to be handled with the utmost care and caution every time. She herself could attest to the impossible ease with which someone could be lost, simply turned around, or very well stranded out there. These scouts impressed her enough, and then, of course, there was Gaara. No one moved through the desert with the same ease as he did. No one could survive out in that vast expanse of damn near nothing like he could. She wondered, at least for a moment as she watched Temari's team preparing for departure, if his own people found it as amazing as she did. Or if it was just another thing they feared.

"Sakura?"

She perked at the sound of her name, drawn from her musings by the familiar face of Niko as she approached. She brushed her dark bob behind her ear, looking to ground as she did so, and Sakura realized she hardly recognized her with that look of apprehension clouding her angular features. "Niko," she said in way of greeting. "Good morning."

Niko said nothing, she only looked the ground again, eyeing the brace around Sakura's ankle, and sighed. "Yeah, it's a _great_ morning." Her words were spoken with a bitter bite to them.

There was a moment of pause, a moment watched by Temari and Miller as they finished their dispatch duties. Sakura shuffled on her feet, shifting her weight in order to distract as well as stretch the tendon in her ankle. "You knew them?" she asked. Niko nodded. "I'm sorry."

She froze, her breath catching, her brow drawn together hard, and her eyes locked on some unseen object. For a moment Sakura thought that she might get yelled at. _How dare you!_ _Come into our country and start shit like this?! Who gave you the right? You should have died out there!_ Paranoia, she knew, but she'd been expecting it for a while and she figured it only a matter of time before it finally happened. But no, Niko only took a breath, seeming to settle herself, and when she looked back up at Sakura, she was only met with disappointment. "We're all sorry," she mumbled, her voice almost lost to the breeze.

Sakura smiled, hoping to lift her spirits. "Looks like Temari put you on guard duty today. I don't think she trusts me on my own."

Niko snorted at this, the corners of her lips tilting up in a smile that almost reached those dark eyes of hers. "I don't think it's you she doesn't trust. But yeah, you'll be sticking close to us for the day."

Sakura nodded, a small smile on her face in hopes of lifting the mood. "Well, I assume that I'm in capable hands?"

Niko grinned, something prideful and just a little cocky. " _Very_ capable. Now come on," she said, waving a hand for Sakura to follow. "You're wanted in the tent."

Sakura followed Niko to their main set up. It was a large tent, she estimated its capacity at about fifty individuals, and when she walked through the open flap she was surprised to see such a tidy and organized control center. There were some busy little workers bees scattered throughout the post, talking between themselves, given her a quick glance as she entered. Temari was in the back, sitting at one of the tables with Miller looking at something over her shoulder. She eyed the pair as they walked in, motioning for Sakura to come and join her. She did as she was told and pulled out a seat next to her.

"Sorry to keep you cooped up like this," she said, her eyes not even lifting from the table of forms and official papers. "But until things settle down, I think it's best for you to stick close."

Sakura nodded. "I understand. I'll stay out of your way as best as I can."

Temari shared a laugh with Niko and Miller. "Once everyone is out on their trails it's nothing but sitting around waiting for radio contacts and anything interesting."

She dared to ask. "Interesting?"

Niko nodded readily. "Yup. Kinda like you the other day."

Sakura grimaced. "I see. Glad I could offer some entertainment."

The radio at Temari's throat crackled and she lifted a finger to the receiver instantly, the response so deeply ingrained that she hardly even thought about. "Go for Temari," she spoke into the mic.

The static response was easy enough for Sakura to understand. It was Kankuro. "North and East quadrants show no signs of activity. We're moving on to the West, then we'll work our way South."

"Good," she responded. "Keep an eye out, report back in an hour."

"Copy."

The line cut off and Temari sighed, leaning back in her chair to run her eyes. With her sleep interrupted and a hectic night to try and put behind her, she was visibly tired. Not so much physically, she had years of late nights and early mornings under her belt, it was more so a mental exhaustion. She lolled her head to the side, looking to Sakura as she did so. "Better settle in for a long day. We'll be here a while."

…

"– an eye out, report back in an hour."

"Copy," Kankuro spoke into the mic before releasing the receiver button. The line clicked off and he tugged the radio to hang down more loosely around his neck. He pulled a cloth from his side pocket and wiped his face with it, it was already browned and dampened with sweat. It was still only early morning out in the desert but already the sun was glaring in the cloudless sky. He glanced around him, to the empty, swelling waves of sand, and sighed in exasperation.

He and Gaara had been out before the sun, Gaara had insisted on going early so any potential threat could be dealt with before Temari's scouting party got on their trails. Kankuro wasn't the biggest fan of this idea, he'd only gotten a few more hours of sleep at the tower, but he knew his brother was right. If an enemy were to run into anybody out here, running into Gaara would be the city's best bet.

Kankuro unhooked his canteen from his belt and popped the top. He took a long drink, savoring the wetness down his dry throat, and took a sidelong glance over to his brother. He stood guard, eyes cast to some unknown place in the distance, and hadn't spoken much since they left. Far from unusual, he hadn't given it much thought, but the normally passive and bored expression was a little more…troubled? No, that couldn't have been it. Maybe it was just thoughtful, _very_ thoughtful. Though he would never voice his observations, Kankuro thought he seemed distracted to say the least.

He fastened his canteen back to his utility belt and whistled sharply to Gaara. He turned at the sound and Kankuro waved to the west. It was time to move on. Gaara nodded and made his way back to him. They were taking a slow patrol, careful not overlook anything, and Kankuro was fine with that. The past few days of running patrol with the heat of the drought had taken its toll on him. Everyone on the squad was looking forward to a break in runs and a good few day's rest. Hopefully, the drought would break by then, maybe they'd get some rains or even just some cooler winds from the north.

But until then, they were stuck with hot, dry, and endlessly sunny.

They continued on, their course taking them west around the city's outer perimeter, and the walls were only little shadows in the distance. There had been no sign of any foreign entity out where Gaara had killed his opponent. A team had been sent to retrieve the body, it would be properly disposed of to ensure no one came sniffing around for the remains. If he were being truthful, Kankuro had been a little unnerved at the sight of the man. They'd intercepted the dispatched team when they were returning with the body…the charred, burnt, and very much dead body. Kankuro was still getting used to the fact that just because Gaara killed his enemies didn't mean he destroyed the bodies. He had a hunch that it was something to do with starving the demon of the blood it loved so much, but he hadn't asked much about it. His sister and Baki had filled him in soon after he woke, but to see the physical evidence of what Gaara had accomplished filled him with a strange and contradictory mixture of pride of trepidation. He'd never seen Gaara cause a death such as that. He'd seen people crushed, suffocated, buried alive and helplessly drowning in a whirlpool of sand. He'd seen skin get ripped from bone, bodies broken down to nothing more than scattered remains after a typhoon of Gaara's sand, but he'd never seen them _burned_.

It just went to further prove what the council feared. They had always known he had power beyond their understanding, but they hadn't expected what was to come when paired with that cunning mind and fast wit of his. Gaara was innovative, smart, strategic, and Kankuro shuddered to think of those who would cross him in the future.

"So," he began, earning him a lazy glance to the side from Gaara. "Sakura was up pretty late last night,"

"Hm." This was only accompanied by a single nod. It begged the question of if he even heard the statement or not.

"Just think about it," Kankuro sighed. "Another day and she'll be out of our hair for good."

This gained more of a reaction. Gaara looked over to his brother, his brow pinched for a moment, and then merely shrugged.

"Pretty little thing," he continued. This offhanded compliment was true enough, at least in Kankuro's own opinion, but he was more so watching his brother for a reaction rather than confessing a true attraction. Gaara didn't even flinch. "Too much trouble than she's worth, though."

There was that shrug again.

Kankuro sighed, his frustration growing with every passing shrug or illegible grunt of agreeance. Gaara knew how to talk, but he liked to play as if he didn't. A direct approach would be best, he decided, and he knew just the thing to push him into talking.

"So what's up with you two?" The statement was blunt, spoken with a force that demanded an answer, not the same nonchalant musings he had tried to start with. Gaara gave him a moment's glance before looking back on ahead of them. It was clear he had chosen not to answer. "Well?" he pressed.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He nearly laughed at this. "Yeah… _right_." He once again wiped the sweat from his brow. "I forgot that the past two nights of your alone time her have just been my imagination."

"Must have been," Gaara replied, his lips straining in a tight line and just the slightest bit of bite to his words.

Kankuro had to hold back his triumphant grin, how he was getting somewhere. "No…no," he said in reply, his voice a little thoughtful. "If it had been my imagination than _I_ would have been the one alone with her. Oh yeah, just the two of us…"

It wasn't long after he finished his sentence that he found himself tripping over nothing and swallowing a mouthful of sand. Gaara continued on without even breaking stride while Kankuro was left to pick himself up from the sand. He wiped the sand from his sweaty face, glaring at his brother's back, but wasn't too sure about it. "That was entirely uncalled for!" he called after Gaara as he picked himself up.

Gaara, without even looking back, answered him. "So was your remark."

"What?" Kankuro jeered, quickly stepping back in line with Gaara. "I'm not allowed to have an opinion about her?"

"Not when you're just using it to get to me."

"Well," he said, his voice lifting to something more suggestive. "If you'd just talk to me I wouldn't need to resort to such measures."

Gaara sighed, his brow pulling together as he did so. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Come on, Gaara. That's bullshit and we both know it."

Gaara looked over at him, his face twitched into a mask of unpleasant impatience. Only a few months ago and it would have been a death sentence to continue on with him like this, but not so much anymore. "Drop it."

Kankuro considered this, it was the safest, easiest route, but not the route that would get him the results he wanted. "Oh, uh-uh. Ever since she got here you've been different."

Gaara glared over at him, his lips pulled tight into a scowl, his face tensed. "Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?" he snapped, his voice coming off rather clipped.

The retort caught in Kankuro's throat. He knew this conversation was broaching on very touchy subjects with Gaara, but it couldn't be helped. They were alone in the world. They had no parents, no other family, and the only one that came close was Baki. If Gaara couldn't learn to talk to his family, who would ever know how to listen? "You know what I mean," he settled on, pressing the subject further.

"Do I?" Gaara snapped again. Unable to face that determination on his brother's face he turned his eyes back to the glowing dunes. They wouldn't mind if he glared at them.

" _Yes_ , I know you do. You've been quiet. More so than usual. Don't play dumb, Gaara."

He wasn't given an answer. Not a snappy retort, not a threat…nothing. If anything, Kankuro had learned that Gaara's silence was to be more feared than his verbal outbursts. At least then it showed he had the patience to talk to someone, if he lost that patience…well, that's when people used to die.

Gaara continued on, greatly wishing his brother would just drop it. He knew his heart was in the right place, but how was he to talk about it when he didn't even understand it himself.

The previous night, when Sakura had refused a bed in favor of his company, he'd spent a good while telling her of myths and legends of the desert and its various nomadic tribes. She had listened in quiet wonder and fascination, a sparkle of joy in those eyes of hers. If her presence hadn't been so greatly reliant upon his ability to talk he would have considered himself speechless. She'd thrown in a comment or a witty remark here and there, laughing at herself mostly, and he doubted he'd ever forget how that laugh sounded. It was a little dorky if he were honest, but her eyes squinted shut and her smile lit up her face, bringing a lightness to her tired features. Sometimes she would ask questions, her voice quieting as if she thought he was telling her a secret, something that she didn't want others to hear.

He had lost track of time, however, and eventually he noticed that her head dipped every so often, he noticed the sleep trying to take over her attention, he noticed the way that she took long deep breaths as if to try and wake herself.

"You should go to sleep, Sakura," he had said, taking care to sound quiet and not too demanding of her. She had yawned, stretching out in her seat and sighing as she cracked and popped her stiff back. She'd nodded, her voice light and full of weariness as she wished him goodnight. She had walked to the door after that, opened it a breath, but then paused to look back to him.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" He only nodded in response. This seemed enough for her. She had left then, walking down the hall and being shown the sleeping quarters where Temari and Kankuro were already back to sleep.

He had felt her energy as she left, felt that pulsing and that flutter of her heart get weaker as she moved farther from him, and eventually, he felt it settle. It had become that calm, rhythmic, and gentle to and fro he'd basked in the night at the hospital. Like a gentle current, as consistent and predictable as the ebbing of the tides, and it was a sensation he felt was too good for him. He wondered what she would think if she knew how her simple presence resonated in him. A quiet, real, and understanding mind that didn't fear him even though she had more right to than most who did. Gaara, always doubtful and apprehensive in this particular field, was sure that she would only see it as an invasion of her privacy, a misuse of a piece of her that she couldn't contain. A perversion of something that wasn't supposed to be shared with others.

 _No one can ever_ really _love a monster._

Yeah…that's what he'd always thought.

Why should he expect anything different?

"We should hurry to the western quadrant, the teams have already been dispatched."

Kankuro eyed him, trying to make sense of that look playing across his face. It was strained, worrisome, and something else entirely that he was sure he'd never seen before on that stoic and fearsome face of Gaara's. He thought it looked something the likes of…perhaps…afraid.

"Yeah," he said in response, finally relenting to drop the subject for the time being. "That sounds good."

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×


	17. Part 17

Follow the Sun, Part 17

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

Temari sat hunched over her work station. There was a litany of papers in front of her. Forms, maps, folders with odds and ends sticking out, the table was covered in them. While she worked, Sakura sat at her side playing with a little puzzle box that Niko had retrieved from her personal stash of entertainment for out on the trail. It was a little thing, not taking up much space in her pack, but the complexity of it was very frustrating. She'd been at it for a while, trying this combination and that, seeing what make the pieces move, but wasn't really focusing on it. She just appreciated the opportunity to keep her hands busy.

Her eyes would drift around the tent, peeking out the waving flap to the desert beyond the wall, settling on faces that passed in and out. It had been a few hours that she'd been sitting here, just waiting…for nothing, really. Kankuro and Gaara had already returned from their scouting. It was an uneventful excursion, which was for the best, and Kankuro had returned to base camp shortly after a quick stop at home for a fresh shirt and a bite to eat. Gaara had stayed away, taking up post on the walls at some other part of the city.

"Remind me never to go for captain," Kankuro said as he looked over the files and forms his sister was trying to tackle, grimacing as he did so.

"No problem, you'd be doing us all a favor." Her voice was flat, only half paying attention. But that half was enough to give him a friendly jeer. He glared over at her, all in good fun it seemed, before settling himself into his seat again. "Miller?"

"Yes?" he answered, coming to her side in an instant to overlook what she was doing.

She straightened some papers and handed to him. "Get these to the office at some point, would you?"

"Of course," he answered, taking the papers from her and was quickly followed by a sigh from his captain.

"Everything okay?" Sakura asked, scooting her chair a little closer to Temari.

She shook her head. "No. Because of everything that's happened I've got loads of paperwork to do. I just gave Miller the reports on the idiots who jumped you. Ugh," she groaned, leaning back to rub her eyes. "Hours of paperwork just to say they're unfit to serve. Anyone with eyes and a brain can see that."

"Well," Sakura chimed in. "At least it's done."

"Yeah, for now anyway."

Temari's radio headset that was left on the table crackled once. A voice popping through the static spoke quickly.

"Captain Temari, th-…border patrol. Copy."

She picked up the headset, brushing some stray hairs behind her ear, and answered. "Go for Temari."

"We've got some visi-. A grou– Konoha came…says that you're expecting them."

"Should be," she responded, her eyes flickering to Sakura for a moment. "Put their leader on."

There was a moment of pause before the line clicked again. The voice was muffled, static overrun the channel, but given the distance from the city to the border it was impressive to be able to hear another person at all.

"Yes this is her," she responded to an illegible question. "Say again? You're cutting out. Yes, that's correct." Something on the other end caused her to smile, something light that brought a brightness to her eyes. "Thank you, I'm doing my best. Nonsense, you've made excellent time, don't rush yourself. What was that? Yes, yeah she's here. One moment."

She turned to Sakura then and held out the radio for her. "It's Kakashi," she stated, a little smile on her lips at the look of relief that crossed Sakura's face. She'd been waiting to hear from them again. "They're at the border station, about half a day out."

Sakura took the radio and held the bud to her ear before she clicked the receiver to speak. "Kakashi?" she questioned, barely able to contain her grin.

"Sure is, dear," he responded, relief in his voice to know she was okay. She'd almost lost his voice to the static but it cleared enough to hear him for a moment. "You had us all worried sick."

She shook her head, the echoes of that grin still plastered to her face. "I know, I'm sorry. I'm doing fine, though. Nothing to worry about."

"Goo – hear."

"Kakashi? You're cutting out?"

"…gonna head out…be there…radio when we get…"

"What was that? I didn't catch that?" she pressed, pushing the ear bud closer to her ear as if it would clear the channel.

"We'll – soon."

She nodded to herself, accepting that this broken communication was all she would get until they arrived in Suna in the flesh. "Sounds good," she replied, a reflection of a smile still remaining on her lips. "I'll see you then. Be safe."

"You too."

The line cut out after that, disappointing her a little, but she simply sighed and handed the headset back to Temari.

"Everything all right?" she questioned as she accepted the radio. She set it aside and turned to face her guest.

Sakura nodded. "Seems to be. They should be leaving soon."

"You're gonna stay another night, right?" Kankuro asked, tilting his head in her direction.

Sakura shrugged. "I'd imagine so. I don't think anyone's gonna budge Shikamaru after crossing the desert once already." She snickered at this, already able to see his face. Tired, sweaty, and incredibly stubborn. She and Shikamaru got along well enough, but once he heard that their main threat had been taken out, that there was no longer a need for his shadow and for their ANBU escorts, she was very sure he'd be quite sour with her. Oh well, couldn't be helped.

"Yeah…" Temari agreed, her voice light as she mused over Sakura's words. "I kinda got that feeling from him."

"Oh, hun," Sakura laughed. "You've got no idea."

"He's a smart one, though, right?"

"If he applies that brain of his," Sakura explained. "For some reason or another, he likes to keep that IQ to himself."

"Hmm…" she hummed, thoughtful and clearly reliving her few memories of the man. Their fight had been one for the books. It was strategic, manipulative, and of course…very effective. She wasn't above admitting when she was had, and at the end of that test, when he had her in his shadow and one step away from failure, he had simply given up. He'd run himself dry and she'd ultimately won by simply outlasting him. It seemed he wasn't above admitting defeat either. She wondered what she would say to him when he arrived. Halfway tempted to taunt him over it, halfway tempted to play the good sport.

For now, though, she was mainly tempted to tell someone to fetch her some lunch. Her stomach turned in her gut, growling as it did so in protest of its neglect. She sighed and took a gulp of water to give it something to sit with, and turned to Sakura.

"Care for some lunch?" she offered. "My treat."

Sakura nodded. "Yeah, I could go for some food. How about I pick something up from that vendor you mentioned yesterday?" She wasn't entirely in favor of sampling the local cuisine but with only another day left in her impromptu visit, she figured she might as well give it a try.

"I'll take some of that," Kankuro chimed in, leaning forward in his chair at the mention of food.

"You already ate," Temari pointed out, already reaching into her pack for her money.

"So? I could always for some of her specialty."

She rolled her eyes at her brother, a bottomless pit it seemed, and handed Sakura the money for lunch. She glanced over her shoulder to her team. "Niko, Miller, go with her."

Niko grinned, happy for some food and a chance to stretch her legs. Miller frowned, his eyes flickering skeptically over to Sakura. "Uh…no."

Temari didn't react right away, as if she hadn't heard him, but then laughed. "No?" she questioned. "What do you mean _no_?"

"I mean that when you told me to do this _exact same thing_ yesterday it didn't work out…at all." It was the first time that Sakura had heard an authoritative speaking voice from him. He had great respect for his captain and always demonstrated her superiority, and because of this, Temari was more so curious than upset with his refusal.

"But Gaara took care of Sakura's attacker last night. The dead can't hurt you," she said, her tone light and slightly teasing. Miller frowned, heat creeping over his face, obviously embarrassed by something.

"I _know_ that," he insisted. "But…if anything goes wrong…"

Temari and Niko both gave him long looks, waiting patiently for him to continue. He seemed lost for words.

"Do I repulse you so much, Miller?' Sakura asked, her sudden voice a little surprising to him as his eyes found hers.

"What?" he gaped. "No, no not at all." He was blushing now, frazzled and embarrassed. "It's just…I just don't think I can take getting the look from him _twice_ in one week."

"The look?" she questioned back, her brow pinching together.

"Yeah, you know…" he trailed off, his eyes shifting nervously to the ground. "From Gaara."

"Ah," Kankuro sighed knowingly, a small grin on his face. " _That_ look."

"Yes," Miller affirmed. " _That_ look." He looked back to Sakura then, watching with disdain as she tried to keep down a giggle at his expense. "After I lost you in the market I thought it was all over. I'm good with _not_ making him mad again."

"Aw," Temari chimed in, a cheeky grin accompanying her tease as she looked over to Sakura. "You had him all worried."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Believe me," she groaned. "It wasn't my intent."

This time Niko laughed. "Oh, Sakura," she said with a chuckle. "Trust me, it's never _anyone's_ intent."

Temari nodded. "You'll be fine," she assured Miller as he gave one last hopeful look. "You can't avoid him forever. Or her."

Sakura smiled warmly to him at her words, trying to portray some innocence and charm in hopes of lifting his spirits.

Miller groaned and, being in no place to refuse his captain, he relented to join Niko and Sakura on their way to the market. It couldn't be helped, he was starving as well and his mouth watered at the mere thought of the scents that intoxicated the air around the market. Sakura grinned as he sighed in defeat while Niko only smirked at him, a cheeky and sassy smirk that he was – unfortunately – growing rather used to.

"Don't be gone long," Temari reminded him as he grabbed his canteen and radio from the table. "I wanted my lunch an hour ago, don't want to wait any longer than I have to."

"Yeah!" Kankuro said, his voice enforced with mock order. "What she said!"

 **…**

"Two specials, two spicy curry, and a veggie stew, please!" Niko called out over the crackling sizzle of steam and the whoosh of gaslight stovetops.

"Coming right up, dear!" the older woman called out from behind the stand. She had her hair wrapped up away from her face, a sheen layer of sweat covering her brow, speckled with dirt and sun spots, and she moved with a fiery accuracy as she shifted between stirring, frying, and chopping.

The heat from the fryers and the warming trays was immense, nearly suffocating in the blistering afternoon heat wave. Sakura felt like she couldn't breathe, but the smells mixing in the air was absolutely intoxicating. She had been hungry before, but now she was positively starving. She still didn't know exactly what was going into these foods, there were some spices that she couldn't recognize the name of or certain foods that looked as alien as the landscape, but she figured anything that made her mouth water so much couldn't taste all that bad. She waited with her group, eyeing the raw ingredients and trying to discern what things she might want to avoid when eating her meal.

Choosing the special right off the bat was a no brainer, it was Temari's favorite after all. The air was saturated with the smells of spices and savory sauces. The crowd around her roared and yelled over each other as vendors sold their lot and customers barked out their orders.

The woman looked up after someone had yelled, Sakura hadn't heard what it was, but the reply it enticed from the woman was batty and full of sass. She cracked a smile and went back to her cooking, but not before her eyes landed on the blob of pink standing front and center of her booth. Her eyes rested on Sakura for a moment, then she threw down her spatula and chopping knife, quickly yelling something to one of her assistants, a pair of young looking sons. They took up her cooking in a moment as she fled around the fryers to the front of the booth.

"You!" she barked, a finger pointing straight for Sakura. "I know who you are."

Sakura took a step back, a little taken aback by the suddenness of the address, and looked around. "Me?" she questioned.

"You're that girl from the Leaf they found wandering the Basin," she affirmed, a knowing smirk across her lips. She looked younger when standing closer, like the mask of age was simply hard work and a layer of dirt.

Sakura nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, that's me. Sakura," she said, nodding to the woman in way of reaching across the counter to shake her hand.

"It's a pleasure," the woman said, her hands coming to rest on her hips. "I'm glad to see you out and about. Not often we get foreigners through these parts. Come to sample the local cuisines?"

She nodded. "Actually, I was going to yesterday but…"

The woman's eyes shot open and her face lit up. "You were on your way _here_ , weren't you? When the attack happened?" Again, Sakura nodded in response. "Well," the woman breathed, taking in Sakura's appearance a little more thoroughly. "It's a shame you went through all that just for some lunch. No charge today," she offered, a wave of the hand finalizing the statement. "On the house."

Miller and Niko glanced at one another, shrugging and taking the free meal with no complaint. Sakura gasped.

"Are you sure?" she questioned.

"Of course I am," the woman replied, a chuckle in her voice. "Then you can run home and tell everyone where to get the best gizzard and curry stew in Suna."

She nodded, thinking for a moment, and then looked back up to catch the woman before she returned the cooking. "Well in that case…can I have another specialty? We've got the money for it."

"Are you _that_ hungry?" Niko questioned as she dug through the money from Temari.

"No," Sakura replied. "I just figured I could bring one to Gaara."

Niko almost dropped the money but she managed to play it off as if it were the wind that almost blew the bills away. Miller had visibly recoiled, though Sakura hadn't seen, but he quickly recovered and did his best not to draw attention to himself.

The woman at the stand heard the words from Sakura's lips and barked the order back to her boys instantly. "Put another special on it, Sabaku style."

"Do they come here that often?" Sakura questioned, turning back to face Niko after she paid the teller for their food.

Niko nodded. "Oh yeah, they're all regulars here. I wouldn't be surprised if she names one her menu items after them one day." She kept her eyes off of Sakura as she spoke, doing so as discretely as possible. She didn't want to give away the shock at her simple request. After all, Temari had given her specific orders to not imply any ill intent or unsafe vibe when – if at all – Sakura chose to bring up Gaara. It seemed she hoped that the girl would bring good word back to her people. And good word about Gaara meant good word about their country as a whole.

Miller was the first to speak out against the suggestion. "But, Sakura," he started, clearly fumbling. "Temari wanted us back right away."

"That's fine," she replied, brushing off the tone in his voice. "You two can go back, I'll find him on my own." She was fully capable after all, and she had indeed felt a residual echo of his presence all over the city. But there had been times when the pull got a little harder, or the vibes in the air would grow stronger as if he were nearer than he had been before. She could find him, she didn't doubt it for a second.

"No," Niko said in a huff. "You can't leave our site, Temari says."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "She's your captain, not my _mother_. Besides, he's close by."

They paused at this, giving a glance to each other before eyeing Sakura again. Niko chose to voice their shared question. "And you know this…how?"

"By a natural predisposition to sensing the electromagnetic flow of energy encompassing all things living, predominately human beings. Now, that's not to say that-"

"All right! All right," Niko said, throwing up her hands in exclamation. "Forget I asked."

"Sakura," Miller said, taking a step forward. "Temari said –"

"Temari won't mind," Sakura interrupted, her eyes suddenly falling hard on him. Not so much at his refusal of her proposal, but more so with her own impatience for being coddled like a child.

Niko sighed, placing a hand on Miller's shoulder and pulling him back a step. "Temari _won't_ mind," she muttered to him, her voice low as to not be heard over the bustle of the crowd. "And neither should we."

He hesitated, something unsure crossing over his features as he eyed his teammate, but he nodded, relenting to what she had said.

"Order up!"

The woman at the stand appeared behind the counter with two paper bags filled with takeout containers. She handed off the bigger bag to Miller and passed the smaller of the two to Sakura.

"These mine?" she asked. The woman nodded. "Which one is the regular special?"

"Don't worry, hun. I've got his marked," she said with a smile.

Sakura nodded and wished the woman a good day before she was pulled back into the cramped and steamy kitchen. Tucking the paper bag over her hip she turned to Niko and Miller. "You'll tell Temari where I've gone?" They nodded, looking over the contents of their bag to double check the order. "I'm sure he's got a radio if she needs anything."

Miller looked up with a brow pulled together. "Don't be so sure. You never know with him."

She shrugged. "Either way. I'll see you guys later?" she asked, beginning to turn away from them. They nodded and waved a goodbye, a forced and weary wave goodbye, but they managed it nonetheless.

Sakura started off into the crowd, working her way through the market to the magnetic pull that resonated off of all the sand and mudstone buildings. It was like a quiet humming in the back of her thoughts, a soft murmur or purring that faded in and out of her attention as she focused on more immediate things. But it was always there, in the background, pulsing, flowing, a never ending well of power from an enigmatic force. This force beckoned her south.

She followed the trail of her senses dutifully. Trust in her gut, that's what she had always been told, and she doubted it would betray her now. She pondered the architecture some more as she walked, busying her mind with appreciating the unique art style that came from the desert. There were stones and precious jewels that were abundant in pottery and jewelry. She noticed lots of silver in the windows of shops, lots of colored glass in breathtaking abstract designs, brass and bronze metal working, and tapestries and embroideries abound. It was a rich and vibrant land of color when one took the time to reflect inward, toward the people themselves rather than the afternoon landscape.

When her path finally broke the city and reached the outer wall, she found herself at the end of a path up to the southern watches. There was a strange contradiction of feeling that washed over her as she continued to draw nearer to this point. A pushing of the power that spilled from Gaara, and also a pulling to that very source. A magnetic tug that seemed to pull the very blood in her veins closer to him.

She eyed the path, a rough and crumbled one that lead precariously steeply toward the top. With no sign of anyone, not too surprising given the condition of the trail, she quickly looked around to see if anyone was eyeing her at the edges of town. No one. She hopped the little roped off entrance to the trail and started up the side of the wall. She figured she'd be seen, but after so high…would it really matter? She doubted anyone would _want_ to go after her.

Her ankle cried out in protest as time or two, and after only slipping in her footing and almost spilling her food once, she decided to take a breather. She'd been hiking up the side of the wall in the hot sun for only ten minutes but already she felt like she could throw in the towel. Again, she found herself wondering how in the hell these people did this day in and day out.

Sakura sat for a moment, her hands splayed on the sandy rocks beneath her, and she thought of Gaara. She wondered if he'd be close enough to get his attention. Maybe he'd come to see what was up and give her a lift to the top. It seemed tempting enough, but one glance to the food at her side made her think otherwise. It seemed that living flesh and blood traveled just fine the way that Gaara got around, but she wasn't sure how their food would end up. Probably gritty and sandy if anything. She preferred to try it her first time untampered with. Parched, hot, and already too sweaty for her liking, she greatly wished she had brought a water bottle or canteen like Miller had. She'd seen so many people out in the sun without any water or drink of any sort, how had they managed that?

No matter, there was a campsite at the southern watch, she knew it, and there would be water and shade always on reserve at the site. Sakura picked herself up from the ground and started up the trail again, careful not to slosh the contents of their containers of food too much as she did so, and resigned herself to the other half of her climb.

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

She was getting closer. She _had_ been getting closer for a while now. She'd been in the market, he'd decided, and it made sense seeing as it was lunch time. He was half tempted to go find her, see what she was up to, see what she would choose to eat. He'd probably have looked for food himself, but just before he was nearly tempted to give in, she'd been on the move again. Slowly, like a leisurely stroll through the town, she'd made her way south of the market and to the wall.

Gaara had wondered what she thought she was doing, climbing the southern trail like that, and sent a sand eye over the wall to investigate. He was surprised to see her alone, he would have thought that Temari wouldn't have sent her into town by herself, but he knew better than to think that. It was more likely that she'd given her chosen body guards the slip. She seemed to manage herself fine on her own and he relented to let her continue with her determinations. But she was closer now, almost to the top of the trail, and he couldn't just ignore her presence any longer, just play it off as if he hadn't already felt that beacon she cast all the way from his sister's watch. He decided to move, intercept her at the head of the trail and see just what it was she thought she was doing. The crumbling trails on this side of the city weren't patrolled nearly as often as the other trails. One slip from this cliff and there would be no one around to help her.

He supposed that's why he had kept that eye on her for so long, the trail wasn't one to be trusted and her healing foot didn't bode well for her. He had stopped at the edge of the trail, a little curious of the familiar smell that wafted up the side of the wall, and he'd arrived just as she reached the trailhead. She had looked up to see him, her face flushed with a soft hue of red, her bangs pulled out of her face with little loose strands stuck to sweat along her temples and neck.

She smiled upon seeing him, something he still couldn't quite get used to, her chest heaving with labored breaths, and she waved.

"Hey, Gaara," she said in greeting, a small reflection of that smile still on her lips.

He nodded in greeting, his eyes falling to that bag at her side. "You shouldn't be out here."

Perhaps it was a little harsh, he thought for a moment, but it was true. It was for her safety more than anything.

She shrugged, brushing it off as if it were nothing. He began to think that this nonchalant nature of hers when it came to bending the rules was how she managed to get away with things. He could only imagine what she could get her hands on in her home turf. Holding up the bag, she seemed to present it to him. "Hungry?"

He didn't respond. Yes, he was hungry. He'd been so for hours but he couldn't bring himself to leave the seclusion of the southern watch. There were always men on patrol, but with nothing but the open sea south of their borders, it wasn't as densely patrolled. A perfect spot to stick close to home without brokering much attention. But what had she meant by that? She obviously had food, good food, some his favorite in fact, and it seemed as though she had intended to offer it to him.

It had taken him too long to answer, it seemed, as she had simply stalked forward and sighed in exasperation. She'd gone through all the trouble of walking all the way to him, and a mile through town in this heat was something she felt she could brag about. And he was just going to…what? Stand there and stare at her?

"Well, I went to that vendor that your sister is such a fan of," she said as she marched passed him. He took it as an open invitation to follow. "You know, the one I tried to go to yesterday." Gaara nodded, pointing her in the direction of the tent he'd been utilizing. "So Niko and Miller took me there today and the lady gave me my food for free. That was nice of her," she added, her voice a little off handed. "Since we had the money, I figured I'd pick up something for you. Umm…" she hummed, holding the bag against her hip as she dug through it. "Here," she said, presenting him with a takeout container. It was marked with the scribbled letter _G.S._ "She said she marked yours."

Gaara took the container, feeling a little awkward as he did so. He wasn't sure how to take what she was saying. It was a good thing, he knew that, but she was just so brazen with everything. Didn't she know what people would say? Word got around, people would talk, and given his history, her interactions with him could be seen as scandalous when looked at through the right eyes. She'd been _seen_ with him, she'd been _speaking_ with him like no one else had dared to, and to take to the market and _buy him food?_ The vendor lady marked his food…Sakura had told someone that it was intended for him…of all people.

Sakura had walked into the tent. Well, it was not so much a tent as it was an awning. The post was an old one, not used much anymore, but nothing ever went to waste out here so they kept the old post as it was, continually stocking it with fresh water and updated maps. It was better to have it on hand than throw away what could still be useful. The open walls allowed the faint breeze ghost through the small structure while the tarp roof billowed softly. Sakura turned a chair to face the open desert and sat down with her food in her lap.

Gaara stood there, food in hand, not really knowing what to do with himself. She'd muscled herself in here rather well, simply invited herself in and sat down. It seemed like something she might have picked up from that blond friend of hers, he probably had that type of personality.

"You gonna sit down?" she questioned, her eyes flickering to the vacant seat next to hers.

He nodded, pulling up the chair to watch the desert with her. Gaara looked down to the lid staring up at him from his lap, his initials scribbled out in marker, a familiar sight. His sister always brought him home food just like this, made just the way he liked it, and it always got to him a little bit. Such a simple gesture could say a thousand times more than words could. She did it to make sure he ate, to make sure he took care of himself, to make sure he had something he liked and could enjoy when he returned home. He doubted Sakura intended it in the same manner, but it was something he appreciated nevertheless.

Sakura had opened her food, getting a good look at it for the first time, and suddenly looked less anxious and more apprehensive. She used the provided utensil to poke around at the steaming chunks, testing density and seeing what mushed and what didn't. She picked up a bite sized piece dripping in dark broth and plopped it in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before nodding.

"Not bad," she said, still chewing a little. "Did I get you the right one?" she asked, looking over at his food.

He lifted open the lid, finding the same steaming food he always saw, exactly as it always was. But the inside of the lid caught his attention, and it only took a second for him to snap the lid back down. His jaw went stiff, eyes locked to the horizon as his breathing caught in his throat.

Sakura eyed him, suddenly concerned. "I didn't get the wrong kind, did I?"

He shook his head, clearing his throat as best he could. "No, no it's right."

She shifted her suspicious gaze to the takeout after that. "There's not something wrong with it, is there?"

"No, I just…thought I saw something," he said again, greatly wishing that there was some legitimate distraction on the horizon. She looked out to follow his gaze, finding nothing since there was nothing, and called him on it.

"There's nothing out there."

"Not that you can see," he replied. Given her abilities of perception and detection of foreign life, he was sure that wasn't entirely true, but it seemed the answer was enough for her as she simply shrugged and returned to her food.

For the moment, at least, she appeared distracted, and he dared to open the lid again. He must have seen something wrong, read something wrong. He pried open the lid, yet again finding that chicken scratch scribbled on the inside.

 _Pretty little thing, isn't she?_

…What?

Well, what the hell was he supposed to do now? Did this woman expect him to sit here and eat from this with _that_ written on the inside? He could almost call it damn near cruel to expect such things from him. Sakura was _right there_ , how could she not eventually look over and notice? But, damn…that food was indeed tempting. Then again, if the lid was the problem he could always just…get rid of it.

Sakura nearly jumped when she heard him rip the lid off the container and shove it into the empty paper bag. She thought she had felt some sort of waver in that energy that flowed off of him a moment ago, a bit of frustration it felt like. Perhaps that had been it, given that he had acted so suddenly and then refused to acknowledge her reaction.

Deciding it best to breeze over it, she returned to her food. It was surprisingly good seeing as how she didn't know what half of it was, and was pleasantly surprised that the flavor of the dish didn't add too much heat to the already blistering day.

"So, Gaara," she started, swallowing a mouthful of food. "I've always wondered something."

"What's that?"

"Well…" she started, thinking of what was best to start with. "Most people don't really see others the way that I do. Like the way that some people have a quieter energy than others, or a louder, more aggressive one. For example," she said, suddenly becoming enthralled with her words and setting her food down. "You remember the Hyugas? Hinata, she is one the most reserved and quiet people I have ever met, but her energy, the way her chakra feels, it's loud, erratic, like something just bursting at the seams trying to get out. Neji though, a quiet and reserved man, yes, but his abilities are much more visible to the naked eye. His energy; quiet, still, and damn near constant."

"Is this what you've wondered?" Gaara interjected, ceasing her ramblings for a moment. "It seems you've got it figured out."

She laughed at him and waved a hand as if to swat away his comment. "No, no. What I mean is that most people don't get to see those things, feel those things about other people. A lot of times the person themselves doesn't even know what they're like on that level." She paused, looking as if she were thinking over her next words, and Gaara felt he knew where she was trying to go.

"What about me?" he asked, taking the very question from her lips.

"Ah," she breathed. "You're much different. You change all the time, at least as far as I'm concerned."

"How so?" he asked, doing his best to sound too interested. But he was, he suddenly found himself yearning for an explanation of how she saw him, what he felt like to her.

"I couldn't get a read on you when we first met, it always fluctuated between calm and chaotic." He repressed his grimace, but her assessment was fair enough, it had been right for that time in his life. "The intensity would change, but never the consistency of it." She sighed, leaning back in her chair in contemplative thought before looking over at him. Being the sole specimen of her attention was a strange occurrence, something he was sure others would only scold her for. It wasn't smart to draw his interest, to catch in attention, at least that's what they always said. But she slouched in her seat, relaxing in the shade under the sun, and he knew she wouldn't care what anyone would have to say to her.

At least…he hoped she wouldn't.

"It's just…" she began. "There's so _much_ of it, Gaara. So much of _you_. Naruto's got all that stuff sealed away so I've never actually felt anything like it before. I swear," she said, a smirk on her lips and an uplift to her tone of voice. "I could feel you coming from miles away, no doubt."

And he _didn't_ doubt that. "What is it that you're wondering?" he asked, steering her back on topic.

She responded without skipping a beat. "How much of it can you move?" He looked confused for a moment. "The sand," she clarified. "How much of it can you move? It can't just be what you carry around with you."

No, no it was not.

He contemplated this a moment, his eyes drifting out to the dunes that sat still as stone in the vast expanse of the desert beyond their walls. It seemed a fitting enough example. He set his food aside and cracked his knuckles. He'd been enjoying the quiet in his mind so far and intended to do his best to keep it that way. "You want to see?" he asked, glancing over to find her curious and then all at once rather excited.

"Yes," she said, her pale hair whisking about in the breeze as she nodded. "If you wouldn't mind."

Gaara held back a smirk. "Believe me, it's no trouble." He got up and moved to the edge of their shade. Sakura got up in an instant to stand by him as he pointed to a spot out in the desert, a crude direction that she found hard to follow. "See that dune? The big one surrounded by the smaller ones? It's about seven miles out."

"Yes," she said after a moment. "I think I know which one you mean."

"Just watch it."

He took a moment to look down at her, a stark reflection of how she'd been when he'd shown her the stars, before he sent his focus outward. He could feel every grain of sand that stood between himself and that dune in the distance, millions upon millions of them, each like an extension of himself with such a harmonized unity to everything else that made him who he was that he was sure he'd never be able to properly put it into words. It was a sense, an understanding of the land, a way of life that no one else could fathom.

Sakura watched as the dune sat in the desert, ancient, glowing in the sun, and still as could be. She was so focused on the singular dune that she didn't notice the others at first. But they had indeed caught her attention, it wasn't often that one saw the ground move in such a way.

Gaara stood at her side, watching the distance as his handy work became apparent. The smaller dunes encompassing the larger one began to move, growing and shrinking like waves, becoming small mounds and massive swells as his focus slithered through the sands. He heard Sakura take in a quiet gasp from his side, her eyes fixed on the dunes, taking a subconscious step forward.

It was a simple trick, one used to entertain him in his younger days, and there had been times before this that he'd made the whole countryside shift and slide like a sandy ocean. He'd take better caution now, as in those days he couldn't be bothered with any scouts or patrols that suddenly found themselves lost in a completely rearranged terrain. Though this site was nowhere near any predetermined scouting routes for the day, he still only displayed this knowing that Temari's southern squads had already passed through this area.

"That's you?" Sakura questioned, wonder and awe giving a breathless air to her voice.

"Mhm," he muttered in response, crossing his arms and leaning against the support to the watch post. He stood a moment, watching the waves of the sand rise and fall, and appreciated the beauty of his desert.

"Wow," she breathed. "That's amazing." Her eyes found him after that, wide and bright and full of that innocent wonder he felt like he wasn't deserving of. " _You're_ amazing."

Gaara shrugged, looking back over the dunes as they settled and returned to a stationary way of life. "It's nothing, just a little trick."

"What else can you do?" she asked, looking as if she were ready for another display.

He shook his head, dismissing her question. "Lots," he said, offering up the only answer he cared to give at the moment. "Eat your food, Sakura."

She pouted, her brow pulling together as her lips pursed. "Fine," she huffed, returning to her meal with a little more enthusiasm than she started it with. "But you'll have to show me sometime," she said, her voice sounding as if it were trying to be assertive, but it was hard to accomplish with a mouthful of food.

Gaara sat back down next to her, finding it a little funny the way she hummed in delight after a particularly savory bite and returned his food to his lap. "Yeah," he muttered, refusing to look at that affronting lid in the paper bag and staring down at his own meal instead. "Sure."

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	18. Part 18

Okay, Wow. First of all, I'd like to once again thank everyone that takes the time to leave a comment on my work.

You guys always say that you look forward to my updates and I always look forward to your feedback. I am so thrilled that you all are appreciating the story for more than a poorly constructed plot to satisfy a smutty fix to a fandom. I feel like I lost a lot of potential readers in the first couple chapters because it wasn't a blatantly surface romance between the characters, and for _Follow the Sun_ , it was never meant to be. I think a lot of people expected confessions of love after only a day of interaction, immediate infatuation with absolutely no fleshed out and realistically feeling connection between the characters. For you guys that have stuck it out, read through Gaara and Sakura's interactions with the other characters, and didn't just skip over everything to get to the " _Good Stuff"_ I salute you. Every damn one of you. I understand that they spent a lot of time and a lot of chapters apart from each other, and I know it can be a deterrent in a fanfic, but I hoped that the world building and character development made up for their moments apart.

I'll try to keep this brief, but I'd like to answer some questions that have come up.

For those of you wondering where I got my inspiration from, or how I managed such description of Sakura's time in the desert, I actually took that from my own personal life. (Along with another book I read shortly before I started writing this. _Sandstorm_ by James Rollins is the first book in a long line of works of fiction called the Sigma Force Novels. I HIGHLY recommend. I've read like seven of them since the beginning of the year and already passed them off to my mom to read.) But anyway, I live in Wisconsin, a state covered with trees and hills and forests and waterfalls. Just endless green. I love it here, I love the seasons and I love my home state for all the beauty it has. But just this past May, I took a vacation with my wonderful mother and my aunt down to New Mexico. It was my first time that far south, and I can say with absolute certainty that I love the desert. It's beautiful in ways that the forested regions can't compare with, but I will always love my trees. (And YES, after being away from it for so long, you most absolutely can pick out the smell of soil in the air, and it IS intoxicating.) While I was in New Mexico (The _land of enchantment_.), we did a lot of site seeing, a lot of hiking and a lot of sweating. I learned very quickly that one can never have too much water, and what I experienced through the heat of the afternoon and the tiresome hiking and climbing made a definite impact on how I wrote this story. So I'm glad you all have appreciated the detail I suffered to obtain. ;)

I know you're all wondering, and yes, the story will be over soon. It's already turned out twice as long as I ever planned on it being and Sakura can't stay in Suna forever just because she can talk to the social outcast. But, I will be posting updates after the official end of the story, possibly on this same work or as a separate work acting as an extension. Since you guys have followed these updates and immersed yourself in this story and appreciated it so much, it's the least I can do. Plus, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been thinking of their future past the goodbyes in this story.

Again, thank you so much for coming along this journey with me, for being there while I create this work and to encourage me and give me good wishes and good vibes. I appreciate it more than you know. I love being a part of this community, and I'm glad I could give back something to entertain and enjoy. Plus, the remarks and comments left on this piece of work only reaffirm my love of writing, and I actually started this fic because I needed a break from a book I'm in the process of writing. I finished the first book, well…technically just part one of what will need to be split into two books, and got a little too in my own head of my writing. So I took a break from it and went back to something I've always loved; Fanfiction. And it has been a wonderful return to the community thanks to you guys. Your kind words and praise have given me more hope to think that one day I'll be a legitimate author and have a published book of my own.

I hope this little update helped and that you enjoy the next few chapters to come. (No, this is not the last chapter.)

* * *

Follow the Sun, Part 18

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The skies had started to glow an elegant gradient of golden to violet, and from violet to a fading blue sky. The wind was starting to pick up, just a bit of gusty breezes, nothing much, but enough to cool the skin and put the wind through one's hair. The air was cooling as well, growing more and more tolerable as the harsh heat of the sun began to sink away below the horizon. It was dusk in the desert, and nothing could compare.

Temari stood on the northern wall, watching the land as her eyes swept from the western sunset to the darkening skies to the east. She was looking for movement out there, something to tell her that the team from Konoha was closing in. She had been in contact with Kakashi several times since they first arrived at the border. With each passing communication, the quality of their channel would improve, proving that he was drawing closer. They had last touched base over two hours ago. They were estimated at twenty miles out, a great distance to trek in the open desert. Figuring she might catch a glimpse of them soon, she had moved from her post with her scouts to stand watch more towards the eastern entrance.

She'd been here for an hour, just watching, waiting. The rise and fall of the dunes had a way of hiding things until they came uncomfortably close. That's why Gaara was normally on guard, he could sense something coming from miles away. But this was no threat. This was a friendly expedition into the heart of their country. Though to the naked eye, there was nothing out in the distance and there had been nothing for a very long time. That is until all at once little speckles of darkness – a few strong in their numbers – emerged from the far side of a distant dune.

Kakashi and his team.

She smirked, both relieved to see them safe and relieved to no longer stand watch. She clicked the receiver for the radio in her ear and the line crackled with static before it cleared.

"Welcome to Suna," Temari spoke, her voice low and melodic as she locked eyes on those moving figures in the distance.

After another click and the clearing of static, Kakashi answered her, a little lightness to his voice. "Good to finally be here."

"You've only got another mile or so, I'll be waiting at the gates."

"Sounds good," he replied, signing off to preserve his breath for the final haul of their journey.

Temari pulled the bud from her ear and massaged a knot out of her shoulder as she watched the advancing team.

"They made good time," Kankuro drawled from beside her, he too observing the party as he slouched on the ground. He took a swig of water before dripping some into his palm and smoothing it over the back of his neck.

"Yeah, no doubt," Temari agreed. "They want their partner back."

Kankuro nodded, not saying anything in response, and thought for a moment. It had been hours since either of them had heard from Sakura or their brother. She'd ditched Niko and Miller in the market and it came as a concerning sight to Temari as her team returned with their food but without Sakura. They had said she insisted on taking food to Gaara, said she'd be able to find him with no problem. Kankuro had nearly choked on his water, Temari had gone dead pan in the face, and Miller seemed as though he was coming to peace with his inevitable and untimely demise. She wanted to call Gaara, to make sure Sakura had found him safely, but she knew better than to doubt her little brother. He would've known she was looking for him, he always knew. It was one of the reasons he was so damn good at avoiding people.

Not to mention that the other scouting parties and captains all knew that Sakura, the one with the unmistakable hair, was under the watch of Temari. If anyone had seen her out and about on her own she would have been told immediately. She must have found Gaara, as she said she would, and Temari figured that she'd take no news as good news.

But now that Sakura's team was here, Temari needed to get ahold of her and have her meet them at the gates. They would want to see her, she knew, so she redialed her radio's frequency and clicked the receiver.

"Gaara, do you copy?"

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He'd been on the southern walls, still sitting in that little makeshift outpost that Sakura had found him in. She was still here too, sitting with him and watching the desert. She'd been entirely content to just wait out the arrival of her team in the quiet solitude of the wall with him. It seemed watching the comings and goings of Temari's scouts wasn't as entertaining as she would have hoped. They had finished their meal shortly after she'd demanded proof of the extent of his abilities. In truth, what he'd shown her only scratched the surface. If he put his mind to it, and there were times that he'd been tempted, he could move mountains if he wanted to. But she had been impressed enough with his little tricks so far, and it gave him some sense of satisfaction to know that someone had looked upon his power and his abilities with wonder and amazement, rather than fear and suspicion.

It was getting easier, he discovered, to sit in her company. She asked so little of him, just sit there, be a presence, and maybe talk back every once and a while. But eventually she had needed a trip to the bathroom and, since her modesty forbade her from finding a hidden spot on the wall to do her business, he had quickly taken them down to the market. She would find plenty of bathrooms in the indoor shops there and find one she did. He'd waited for her a little outside the door of the shop, trying not to pay attention to all the passing people attempting to hide their stares, attempting to look like they _weren't_ discreetly shuffling away from him. It wasn't often that he just hung around the crowded market, he never liked the flood of people, loud and irate with one another in the hot sun. But she'd looked him dead in the eyes with that crooked smirk and told him to stay put. Like a good soldier, he had listened dutifully.

She appeared from the shop shortly after with some wet hair stuck to her face and a light sheen to her skin, having washed her face in the bathroom, and smiled once she spied him still standing in that same spot waiting for her. It was still strange for him, for everyone, there were so many people around and she was only digging herself a deeper hole whenever she interacted with him as she was. She paid them no mind, whether she saw and just ignored or truly didn't notice them, Gaara didn't know. But she had stalked up to him, stood so daringly close, and looked up at him as if expecting something.

"Back to the post?" she had requested, her voice so sweet and so gentle compared to the shrieks and curses he'd always been given. He couldn't vocally comply, afraid of what his voice would do, and he only nodded in agreeance. She'd grinned then, not the same pleasant smile but something feisty and devious as she stepped even closer. The market seemed to go quiet as she rested an arm on his shoulder and tucked herself close, everyone anxious for something. The sand moved, shifting and churning at their feet, and Sakura had stifled that mad grin as best as she could. It seemed she was becoming a fan of his little tricks, and transporting as he did left her feeling lightheaded and weightless. Like an addictive high she simply craved more and more.

She'd giggled a bit as they materialized back atop the walls, giddy with excitement as she sampled the reaches of his abilities. He found it did him no use to find her confusing and contradictory, it would only serve to drive away the bit of goodness that had fallen so haphazardly into his lap. After all, Sakura had appeared content enough in their solitude, and he found that he was too.

But his quiet musings were interrupted by a harsh crackle from around his neck. "Gaara," his sister's voice had said, poking through from the static. "Do you copy?"

Sakura's eyes had darted to him at the sound of his sister's voice as if somehow knowing the break in radio silence was truly meant for her. Gaara brought the speaker up to his ear and clicked the receiver on his radio. "Copy," he responded before clearing the line for his sister.

"Sakura's team was just spotted."

He knew, he'd known for a while now. It was Naruto, he had been a dead giveaway of their proximity after they crossed the threshold of Gaara's perception. After their fight, Gaara doubted that the beast in his head would ever forget the feeling of Naruto's power, the power of that demon fox. He'd kept their growing proximity to himself, however, enjoying the simplistic quality of his time with Sakura. But then, as they drew closer, he had noticed Sasuke; another signature he'd never forget. Not that the Shukaku would ever let him, though the splintered scar on his shoulder was reminder enough. It _still_ hurt sometimes. There was something about his signature, however, that stood out from the others that followed Kakashi into Wind country, something…tense. He put it out of his mind, favoring the pleasantness before him over the sourness closing in from the desert. After all, he didn't have much longer with this sense of calm that she gave him.

He figured that after Sakura left, it would be a crash back into a reality where he was indeed still feared and shunned and that the warmth that she demonstrated to him, the forgiveness and familiarity she addressed him with, it would all leave him as she did. This thought, though he chose not to dwell on it, caused him some upset. He would have been tempted to be cross with her, to blame her for all of the conflict and confusion he'd found himself in. It _was_ her fault, after all, the way she looked at him and touched him and talked to him. He'd _tried_ to give her space, tried not to crowd her or suffocate her with his presence, but she'd continually gone against this effort of his. How could it be anyone's fault but her own? She'd given him a glimpse into what everyone else had, she'd given him a taste of the thing he'd been desperate for his whole life. And she would just…what? _Leave_?

Gaara knew it was irrational, he knew it was just the emotions he'd been trying to maintain, but he felt just a little betrayed at the thought. As if at some point in the past few days, he wasn't really sure of when, he'd grown used to it, come to expect it from her.

"Gaara?" Temari addressed again.

"I know," he replied, his tone flat and bored as he stared at the vacant lands of the south.

"Of _course_ you do," he heard his sister mutter over the line. The sheer amount of attitude in her voice almost made him smirk. "Sakura still with you?"

"Yes, she's here."

The line clicked sharply in his ear. "Good, you want to meet us at the east gate?"

"Copy, be there soon."

"See you there," she responded quickly before signing off. Gaara let the radio hang limply around his neck with his goggles.

"What's up?"

Gaara turned to see Sakura standing a few paces away eyeing him curiously, a little bit of hope reflecting in her eyes. "Your team has been spotted. We should meet them at the gates."

Her face lit up like the sun, her lips pulling into a crooked grin, her eyes squinting as she smiled, and the golden sunlight reflected off those pink locks of hers like a crown of light. "Oh, that's wonderful!" she exclaimed, her eyes flickering over to the east. "I hadn't expected them this early."

Neither had he.

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"My, my," Kakashi breathed, the grin on his face was evident even under that mask he always wore. " _Captain_ Temari."

She smiled, proud and regal, and gave the arrived party a small bow, as if to show herself off. Not like she needed to, the eldest of the Sabakus had always been an impressive sight both on and off the field. Temari rose from her shallow bow, a shadow of that cocky grin on her lips.

"Welcome to Suna, capital of Wind country," she said, her voice smooth and fluid as it left her lips. "I'm pleased you all made it safely."

Kakashi stalked up to her, giving her a proper address, captain to captain, and nodded. "Nothing to give us any trouble but that damned sun."

She shrugged. "You get used to it." Her lips pursed in thought as she looked over their squad. They had made good time, but they were obviously worn and drawn too thin. Naruto, though obviously tired and dirty from the trip, was positively buzzing, his eyes darted around to everything, his brain working a mile a minute just to take it all in. She doubted he'd ever been to the desert before. The ANBU all stood together, faces covered in a mask of animosity, and she could practically feel the way they drank in their surroundings. Not like Naruto, not because it was new and exciting, but like soldiers. Like trained men looking for threats and prime vantage points. Then her eyes fell on Sasuke, he still looked bitter, his lips still tilted down in a natural scowl and his brow perpetually pinched in annoyance. He looked none too happy to be here. "I hope you're not planning on heading back right away," she spoke to Kakashi, drawing her brow together over those deep blue eyes as if to accentuate her sincerity.

"Oh, _hell_ no," a voice groaned in response. It was Shikamaru, she'd noticed him instantly when they'd arrived a moment ago. He'd been walking next to Naruto, taking the brunt of what Sasuke had refused to hear. Now, he stood off to the side, leaned in the shade of the wall, the small ember of his cigarette waved in the shadow.

"Don't worry, Shikamaru," Kakashi said. "I wouldn't make you do that."

He snorted, flicking the cherry of his smoke for emphases. "Not like you could make me."

Temari snickered, almost enjoying how his attitude hadn't changed since their match. He was still just the way she left him. She nodded to Kakashi, passing him off the gate patrol to record their IDs and mission passes, and stalked up to Shikamaru. His brow was dripping with sweat, face just lightly sun kissed after a day trekking under the sun, and it seemed as though he was trying not to notice her approach.

"Care to take it all in before you go?" she questioned, her tone of voice was light and melodic as she gave him a little jeer.

He snorted again, looking off the side as he exhaled a puff of smoke. "Not at all," he muttered. There was a moment of pause between them, Temari could feel her brother's eyes on her back as she stood her ground and simply waited for him to continue. Shikamaru took another puff, seemed to inhale contemplatively, and sighed as he exhaled. He looked up at her, his dark eyes trying to avoid hers. "So," he started. "Captain, huh?" She grinned and nodded. "Yeah…that doesn't surprise me." The simple remark had touched her more than she had thought it would, causing her grin to turn into something a little more sincere. He took another drag as he met her eyes. She knew that look, she'd seen him fight, as if one could see the gears turning in his mind through those deep eyes of his. "How long?" he asked, gazing over her face to see just how much she might have changed in the past few months.

"For a month now as a probationary period. Just finished my first run cycle with my scouts today. If everything goes well, then…" she said, trailing off for a moment as she thought of how the past few days could impact her career. "Hopefully I'll be sworn in officially. Then I can manage a team or become a trainer if I want to go that route in the future."

Shikamaru nodded, looking to the side in thought. He took a final drag off of his smoke, a long and drawn out one that burned the embers all the way to the filter. He flicked it when he finished, the ashes flying out in a starburst of light as it landed with others discarded from the guard post. "You'd make a good teacher," he said, not so much as a compliment as it was just a statement, a rather factual sounding statement. She stifled her grin, about to thank him for what he said, but he continued before she could. "Give your future students my condolences."

She shook her head as he pushed himself off the wall and walked back to his gathered party. That had been more along the lines of what she had expected from him. She walked back over to Kankuro, her hard eyes daring him to say something after she saw that cheeky grin on his face.

"Not a word," she warned under her breath.

"Oh, trust me, sister," he said with that knowing grin of his. "Just _one_ word wouldn't even begin to cover it."

She resisted the urge to smack him, and it was made an easy effort by Naruto as he quickly approached. "Naruto," she said in greeting.

"Hey, guys," he greeted back, his infamously quirky grin plastered to his face. He looked back and forth between them, and then behind them for a moment before that grin fell. "Where's Sakura?"

Upon hearing this, Sasuke turned his gaze on them as well, but it was less curious than Naruto's. This gaze was suspicious, incriminatory, and she didn't like it.

"She's coming," she reassured Naruto.

"Where has she been?" he asked. "You guys didn't keep her with you?"

Kankuro chuckled at this, shaking his head. "Yeah," he laughed. " _Keep_ her with us. Like _that's_ at all possible."

"We told her you were here," she explained in way of her brother's remark. "She'll be happy to see you." Naruto grinned widely at this and, for a moment, she was reminded of her faithful second in command, Miller. He had that same cheeky grin.

It seemed as though all at once the air got heavier, like a low-pressure system suddenly moving in. Temari knew this sensation well, but the others in Konoha's party didn't and they reacted accordingly. The ANBU, though their movements were sleight of hand and hardly detectable, scanned the entrance to the city and the walls. Sasuke, not so sleight of hand, had quickly pulled a knife from his utilities and flipped it in his palm, ready to use. Temari didn't really know what he planned on doing with that, seeing as that not much could be accomplished with a knife against what had him on edge, but she could feel the tension prickle in the air.

Gaara was coming.

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He'd known to expect it, he'd been anticipating it and preparing for it as best he could, and when the sand cleared away all those familiar faces stared him down. But only for a moment. As to be expected, they quickly moved the woman at his side. But she was still gathering herself, still finding her balance after being put back together, and those eyes gradually shifted back to him. It didn't faze him, he doubted it ever would after a lifetime spent under scrutiny and rejection, but he worried for a moment about how this would impact her relation with her team.

Gaara had tried to tell her he could drop her off a few yards away, out of sight from her team. He didn't _need_ to be there, she just needed a quick ride was all. But she had refused, looked at him like he were crazy and rejected his offer. There was no more said on the matter thanks to Sakura's refusal to hear his logic, and he'd relented to do as she instructed. Right outside the gates, right in front of everyone, that's where she'd wanted to end up. She wasn't about to waste time seeing her team, let alone hide him from them. But now the consequences of her actions were staring them in the face. Well…staring _him_ in the face.

Sasuke Uchiha glared him down. Gaara simply looked back, his face blank and expressionless as Sasuke seemed to size him up. He'd watched as Gaara appeared from the sand and that scowl on his face went from shallow to a deep frown upon seeing his teammate tucked at an old enemy's side. Although perhaps they weren't old enemies, perhaps they were just…plain enemies. It certainly seemed like it given that look Gaara was getting from him, and the blade held at the ready in his right hand. The beast in his mind slithered and quaked with anticipation. One of his toughest opponents was once again before him in the flesh and that thing only craved carnage and bloodshed. Gaara could practically see the suspicion and animosity roll of off his tense shoulder and, for a moment at least, he was tempted to try his luck with the bothersome man again.

He was thwarted, however, before he could even act on the impulse as Sakura pulled herself from his side. His arm slipped from her waist with no resistance, surrendering her back to the care and protection of her team. She stepped with long and fluid strides to Naruto, a wide smile on her face as she walked open armed into a much-needed embrace. His arms were tight around her, squeezing the breath out of her as he lifted her from the ground.

She hadn't even bothered a word, it wasn't necessary, not for Naruto, and it was though the very light got brighter as he spied her well. But soon she pulled back, if not she might simply suffocate in that choke hold. "It's good to see you, Naruto," she said warmly to him.

He nodded, that dorky grin still pulling at his cheeks. "You too, Sakura!" he exclaimed, his eyes taking in all that he could of her face. It had only been the better part of three days but it was though it had been an eternity for him. She could have laughed at him really, always one to make himself sick with worry, but she knew it only came from that big heart of his. "You're doing okay?" he asked.

She nodded readily. "Yes, yes. I'm fine."

"What about _that_?"

She looked toward the familiar voice and found Sasuke staring unhappily at her ankle. What she hadn't seen was the quick look he'd given Gaara right before he'd demanded an answer from her. "Oh, this?" she replied with a light chuckle. "It's nothing, just a hard fall when I landed on the way in."

Gaara felt his brow pinch together in question but he quickly reverted to his expressionless ways, cursing himself for the lapse in control. He glanced to his side, found his sister sharing a similar discrete look. With the slightest of movements, she shifted her weight on the sand below her feet, a silent communication with him they'd often used to communicate on the battle field. If she pointed her right or left foot a certain way, or her heel a certain direction, if she slid her foot left or right, or if she shifted her weight from one foot to another, they'd created a code that allowed them communication without the need to talk. And this message was a simple one; no.

No, don't say anything, don't bring attention to what Sakura had said, just let her do as she saw fit. He wasn't going to argue with that. He could feel the energy pouring off of Sasuke and the ANBU appointed to this mission. They'd all been there for what happened, they'd all at least heard of what he could do, and he couldn't hold anything against them if they decided they were in any sort of danger. Sasuke, well…Gaara had a feeling he was just waiting for a reason to pounce.

"Yeah, Sakura," Naruto interjected again, calling the immediate attention back to him. "What exactly _did_ happen?"

She shrugged, waving a hand to bat away the question. "Nothing much, I'll tell you later. You guys are probably starving."

"It can wait." Sasuke stared her down, his onyx eyes were hard and cold, calculating and on the verge of paranoid.

Sakura thought about a retort, she'd had just about enough of him thinking he could bully her like that, but she knew better. There was no point in arguing it, it would only serve to make it look like she had something to hide. And she didn't…just, not right now.

"Well you all saw what happened," she said, looking between her team. "I can't explain it, but somehow I managed to get away from the man. I've got no idea how he was so quick but I was dropped in the desert within the hour of my disappearance, I'm assuming. It was still around noon when I got here, no idea where I was, no supplies, nothing."

"Did you figure out where you landed?" Kakashi asked, taking a step forward. "It may give us an idea where he'd been intending to take you."

Sakura shook her head. "Don't ask me, I've got no clue. You'd have to ask him," she said, throwing a gesture behind her to where Gaara stood off the side. She turned a little to look back at him. "Where would you say I landed?"

He thought for a moment, thinking back to that first day of her spontaneous arrival, to when he'd been contacted by his sister, a foreign entity in his sands she'd said, and how he'd wasted time stopping back at the city and how he'd wasted even more time with his siblings on the wall. How he'd been none the wiser and left her out there stranded, dehydrated, helpless… "Roughly twenty-four miles north-west of the northern gates."

She snorted at this, chuckling to herself before turning back to her team. "And I was so turned around I just kept going farther from the city."

"I see," Kakashi said, his voice a little contemplative yet perfectly pleasant. "The letter wasn't specific on your time in the desert," he explained, his gaze shifted to Gaara for a moment before back to his student. "How did you manage to get back to the city?"

"Oh, Gaara got me," she said, her words coming out blunt and fluid, leaving her lips without missing a beat. "Good thing, too," she said quickly after as if immediately addressing the mixture of stifled shock and blank stares. "Otherwise there was no way I was gonna last the night out there." It was a matter of fact, and at least everyone on the Suna side of this little gathering knew it. "Got right to the hospital and they fixed me up. Just been waiting since," she said, finishing with an oh-so innocent smile and a light shrug of her shoulders.

Shikamaru, a clever man who even in his moments of discontent always had a way of making up for his shortcomings, had left the evaluation of Gaara to Sasuke and Kakashi, their combined effort was good enough. He'd focused more on Gaara's sister. He had noticed the way the Temari's eyes had gone a little wide and how she'd quickly glanced to Gaara when Sakura had addressed Sasuke's harsh concerns. She'd shifted her weight then, and it was only after noticing this that he also noticed how Gaara's demeanor changed as well. So Sakura had been stranded far from the city and only managed to go further? Then apparently Gaara had gone out to get her? Yes, Sakura's confession was a little shocking, but nothing to be of immediate concern given her calm demeanor and good health. She'd been hanging off his shoulder when she'd arrived with him; _that_ might have been an immediate concern. No matter, he'd come to his conclusion. She was lying, and the sand shinobi knew it.

He kept his mouth shut, his mind already churning with possible causes and benefits of Sakura telling this little fib, and resigned himself to address this with Kakashi later. It would do none of them any good to call her out on it now.

Naruto hadn't noticed this, he was far too preoccupied with Sakura, and he hadn't even thought to question any of her words. "Wow, Sakura," he breathed, his brow pinched in leftover worry. "I'm really glad you're all right." She smiled at him, warmly and affectionately. "Just don't scare us like that again."

"I don't plan on it," she assured him.

Shikamaru chose to speak, to raise another point not yet addressed. "What of your enemy?" he asked, his eyes scanning between Sakura and Temari, now consciously looking for the subtle happenings between them.

But his answer came from neither of them. It was Gaara that spoke and drew the attention of the gathered crowd yet again. "He's dead."

"What?" Naruto gasped, his wide eyes flashing to Gaara in an instant. Even Kakashi seemed taken aback by this. "When?" he demanded, directing his gaze back to Sakura as if he suddenly expected her to be damaged after hearing this.

"Last night," she answered quickly, her eyes flickering over to Gaara, nodding once to let him continue.

"I intercepted him in the desert on his way to the city," Gaara said, a smug part of him enjoying the look of disbelief on Sasuke's face. He'd defeated a man they hadn't been able to tackle as a team and he hoped that this might detour Sasuke from trying to start a pissing match with him. But that didn't mean he still couldn't at least fuck with him. He shrugged, looking off to the side in a rather bored manner. "Didn't take too long."

Kakashi stepped forward, the look in his eyes was a new one for Gaara. He could have very well seen him as the same enemy that tried to kill his students only a few months ago, but there was actual intrigue and fascination in that gaze of his. "You did this on your own?" he questioned.

Gaara nodded. "It was better than putting my team or my squad in harm's way."

Kakashi nodded, fully understanding the legitimacy behind his words while everyone else was only caught up on the rarity of them. "How?"

 _Ironically_ probably wasn't the answer that Kakashi was looking for, Gaara figured, and he decided that in a crowd of those so ready for him to turn on them, it might be best to be blunt about what he was capable of. "I burned him."

Naruto and Sasuke shared a look, both now suddenly apprehensive. It seemed the power of speech had left the both of them, replaced either by wariness or astonishment, and Shikamaru was the only one with sound enough mind to verify. "And…how did you burn him, exactly?" he asked, his hands in his pockets as he leaned back slightly.

Gaara shrugged. "I have my ways."

Kankuro stepped forward then, the tension between the group growing a little too much for his liking, and spoke to Kakashi, a man of strategy and a level head. "The body was retrieved this morning, you're free to view it before it's disposed of."

Kakashi nodded, thinking over the possibilities. "We should…what about his belongings? Were there any artifacts or identification? Maybe where he's from or who might have known him?"

Kankuro shook his head. "We already looked, the guy's like a ghost, but by all means, be my guest."

"Come on," Temari said, addressing the group as a whole. "It's been a long few days, I'm sure everyone would appreciate some food and a chance to unwind. Sakura?" she asked, looking to her new friend in a way as to discretely as for help. If there was anyone who could keep those boys of hers in line, Temari wanted them on her side.

Sakura nodded instantly. "Of course, I could go for some dinner. I bet you guys are starving," she said turning to her team. Naruto nodded profusely and looked eager to sit down to a good meal after a few days of trail rations. "We can talk more then," she promised.

"That sounds good," Naruto grinned, falling into step with her as she turned to follow Temari and Kankuro into the city. He began spilling words from his lips, eager to tell Sakura of all they had done after she vanished. She had smiled and shaken her head, knowing all too well how most of this tale was going to proceed. They continued on as a group through the front gates, taking relish in the long shadows cast by the setting sun.

Sakura turned from Naruto a moment, half listening as she looked to the back of their group. Trailing behind was the squad of ANBU and walking before them, hands stuffed in his pockets and positively sour, Sasuke scuffed his feet along the ground as he stepped. His eyes rose as if he had felt her looking at him, meeting hers for a moment. They were still the same eyes as she'd always remembered; dark, brooding, and so full of hurt and mystery. There had been many points in her life where she would have killed to be the one to comfort him, to be the one to see what was beyond those onyx depths that shut out the world. Perhaps she'd even gotten a glimpse of it, out there in the forest, when they had been ambushed and their enemy had promised him power and fulfillment of his creed of revenge.

He scowled, obviously displaying the upset he felt over having to come and retrieve her. Or maybe he had been genuinely concerned, not knowing what had happened to her, but she felt no relief upon seeing him as she would have once expected of herself. Now, after seeing that man go after Naruto and seeing that moment of hesitation before Sasuke intervened, it just sent a cold lump to sit heavy in her stomach.

She loved him, she knew she did, and she was sure that she always had. But maybe she had been wrong about how she loved him. Maybe what she had mistaken for romance and undying affection was really something else, like as it was for Naruto. And even if she did love him, truly love him, could she ever be with someone who could so easily put their own pain and selfishness above the greater good of her people? She didn't know, she definitely didn't _think_ so, but she supposed it would all depend on if she was faced with the choice or not.

Sasuke rolled his eyes, having enough of their moment of eye contact, and he looked away. Behind them all, standing back at the mouth of the gate, still as a stone with arms crossed stubbornly over his chest, Gaara remained back from the party. He hadn't joined them, not that Sakura or his siblings had expected this from him, and instead, he simply watched as Sakura was integrated back into her rightful place.

He had seen the way the rest of the world seemed to disappear when Naruto laid eyes on Sakura, how his face lit up and how one could see the relief finally give way to his tense shoulders. He had seen the warm pride on Kakashi's face to see her alive and well after their separation, even Shikamaru had given the slightest sigh of relief. This was not the case for Sasuke, however, as he chose to forgo the pleasantries of their reunion in favor of his paranoia and superstition.

And then he'd turned that look on her. Gaara had nearly tripped him, tempted to give him a lesson and have him face plant in front of everyone, but he figured if Sakura dealt with it then it was for the benefit of the team as a whole. He wouldn't meddle in their internal structure…though he'd been entirely too tempted as they'd walked away; Sakura glancing back and being met with a sourness from Sasuke that she didn't deserve. There was something about the look in her eyes that reminded him of something the likes of pain and contradiction. That natural uplift to her face had fallen as their eyes met, and then he'd looked away as if she was unworthy of his attention.

But then, still a little sad looking and maybe even a little dejected, she'd looked beyond Sasuke and to him. She couldn't say anything, Naruto was still enthralling her with the recollection of racing back to the city for supplies to go after her, but her eyes did soften and she gave him just the slightest of smiles.

He couldn't say anything, he wasn't about to divulge or hint at any part of her stay in the city that would bring any sort of suspicion upon her. She knew her team best, and he knew that he wasn't going to be at all favored…perhaps it was for the best.

She was leaving anyway, back under the attention of her dedicated teacher and the watchful affection of his demonic counterpart. His sister would watch her well, and with the safety net huddled around her she was arguably the most protected thing in his city. Her enemy had perished, the threats of his people had been extinguished, and she was returning to the sanctuary of her homeland at dawn. Just like that, he wasn't needed anymore.

The sand below his feet shifted, swirling in a fine wisp up into the air, and he'd nodded to her in farewell. Her eyes fell a moment, perhaps thinking about something before she turned back to Naruto and continuing on with him as always.

The world became dark and fuzzy, falling away and taking the horizon, the city, and the all those walking away from him with it. Sounds became less of voices and footsteps, and more of low rumbles and moans of land as it shifted. The ground opened up around him, swallowing him whole and spreading him to the sand, and – like always – he entered that void alone.

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	19. Part 19

Follow the Sun, Part 19

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"What do you think _that_ was all about?" Kankuro asked his sister, his voice hushed in secret between them.

Temari shrugged, her brow pulled together over contemplative blue eyes as she stared down at the counter. She'd been absentmindedly wiping it down as soon as her brother had approached, looking to busy herself. "I don't know. Not at all what I was expecting."

Kankuro nodded, taking a quick glance behind him to where Sakura sat in their living room.

Her feet were rested on the armrest of the couch as she lounged over the seats, her eyes fixed on the pages of a book. They'd been home for only a little while, returning shortly after getting Kakashi and his team some good food. Someone from the tower had tracked them down as they ate, relaying the information of the team's rooms for the night, and where to report in the morning for supplies for the road. Naruto had been visibly relieved to hear that he would have an actual bed for the night, but his teammate had only sunk lower in his seat and furthered the look of bitterness on his face.

Sakura had known he'd want to leave as soon as possible, he'd take camping out in the open desert for a night over staying in a city teeming with possible hostiles. But, he often let his pride get in the way, and if there was one thing that Sakura had learned out here it was that the desert should never be taken lightly. They would take time to rest and gather supplies here, where it was safest, even if it didn't always seem like it.

He was made even more upset, Naruto as well, by Sakura's insistence on not taking the provided rooms with her team as she normally would have, and instead accepted another night under Temari's roof. Temari had been pleasantly surprised, perhaps she'd been hoping that she would get another night with her new friend before sending her off. Temari was a no nonsense kind of girl, she'd always spoke her mind and, when coupled with the fact that her father was the Kazekage and her brother was the sand demon's vessel, it had a habit of causing difficulty in making friends in her early years. Sakura was a sweet thing, kind to her family, and with a sass that Temari respected as well as admired. She couldn't lie to herself, she'd be sad to watch her go back to the forest in the morning.

But here she was now, feet up and relaxed, pleasant as could be in their home. Though Temari appreciated the sentiment of her acceptance to her invitation, she was still bewildered as to why Sakura had lied to her team. She'd at least asked her about the former of the two and Sakura had explained that, while she was under their roof, it would give the less accepting on her team a better chance to learn some trust.

"Besides," she had added so lightly. "They can deal without me for another night. It won't hurt anyone." Temari had relented at that point, settling to follow her own advice and let the woman do as she saw fit.

"I thought she wouldn't waste any time telling Kakashi," Kankuro mused as he muttered to his sister.

Temari nodded. "Just don't say anything, she must know what she's doing."

Kankuro grimaced, his eyes shifting back to Sakura for only a moment before rejoining his sister in staring at the countertop. There were a lot of things that could go wrong for them if someone found out that she had lied about her time here. They wouldn't so much distrust her, he imagined, as they would suspect them of foul play. They'd assume the worst most likely, saying that she must have been pressured or subdued into keeping secrets for them. And with Sasuke already so on edge, not that he didn't have a right to be, Kankuro imagined that it wouldn't take much for a misunderstanding to turn into an all-out battle. "Hm," he huffed, even his breath sounding contemplative. "Let's hope."

Temari was going to say something, confront that look of doubt on her brother's face, but something caught her attention before she could. She'd felt something brush against her ankle, a feathery touch that almost went unnoticed. She glanced down to see a light dusting of sand swirling at her feet, but only for a moment, then it just as quickly fled back into its cracks and crevices along the floor. Kankuro noticed this too, and just as Temari, he knew what was meant by the simple gesture; pay attention.

They exchanged a look, one to say that this discussion was not yet over, and Kankuro returned to the living room. He didn't get so much as halfway to his seat and his piles of puppet parts before the sound of footsteps could be heard outside. Coming up to the door, they stopped outside and politely knocked. Sakura had lifted her eyes from her book and gave the door a short look before returning to her readings and allowing the woman of the house to address the visitors. Temari straightened her hair, throwing the dirty rag she'd been busying herself with into the sink, and moved with a fluid grace to the front door. Her heart did a sudden and unexpected flip in her chest when she spied who was waiting so impatiently on her doorstep.

Shikamaru stood just outside, his hands stuffed in his pockets, the burning ember of cigarette giving pale orange light to his face in the darkness of the street, and those eyes of his were solidly set on her. It took her a moment to even register that there was another person with him. Standing a little behind Shikamaru, looking cool and collected as ever, Kakashi waited patiently to be acknowledged.

"Oh," Temari exclaimed, a little surprise in her voice. "Hello, you two," she greeted as smoothly as she could. "Can I help you?"

"Sorry to disturb you so late," Kakashi apologized, running a hand through his silver hair as he did so. "But –"

"We need to talk to Sakura," Shikamaru interjected, flicking his half-finished cigarette to the street. He'd looked at her then with a stubbornness and command to his features that she hadn't yet seen in him. It was a good look for him, she decided, a handsome look…provided that such an attitude wasn't directed toward her.

She paused a moment, looking between the two only to see Kakashi shrug his shoulders. He seemed relaxed enough, not at all on edge like the rest of his team had been, and she took his demeanor as a good sign. She smiled and nodded then, calling into the living room for Sakura.

"Hey, Sakura?" she asked, earning her the attention of her guest. "Kakashi and Shikamaru are here."

Her brother shot her a look upon hearing this, a suggestive little wiggle of his dark brows and a devious smirk on his lips. She'd almost gone red in the face, but her annoyance of his actions overthrew her embarrassment of them.

Sakura shut her book, setting it down quietly on the stand and rising from her seat to join her at the door. Temari had noticed her features as she announced their visitors; no shock, no surprise, just a light nod to prove she'd actually heard her. She walked to the door, standing at Temari's side, and looked at their visitors as if they'd just shown up at her _own_ house. Temari was suddenly overcome with the feeling that Sakura had simply been waiting for this visit.

She stood poised and perfectly cool before them, her hands coming to rest on her hips. "Hello," she greeted in that sweet voice of hers. "You want to talk?"

Kakashi stepped forward, his mere presence dampening that hard look on Shikamaru's face. "Hey, dear," he greeted as she smiled up at him. "Is there someplace we could speak privately?"

"There's the back garden," Temari offered. "It's gated and our neighbors are good at keeping to themselves."

"Perfect, may we come in?" he asked, putting his best politically polite voice to work for him.

Temari nodded, standing out of the doorway to invite them inside. They made their way into the house, following her through the living room and into the back where the patio door was covered by the curtain. The two took this time to evaluate the Sabaku house. It was simple home, not much personality besides the piles of paperwork on the tables and bits of puppets scattered about. Not a thing that would be an immediate give away to the power and potential housed here. Temari pulled back the curtain to the back and opened the sliding door for them. She nodded to Shikamaru as he passed her by, already pulling another cigarette from his pack, and tried not to give away the nervousness she felt. Kakashi thanked her as he left her house, and when Sakura followed after them she smiled to Temari. It was something the likes of knowing and reassuring, as if to say, _don't worry, I've got this_.

She watched as they moved to the patio, nodded to them, and shut the door. With the curtain drawn, she was able to hide just inside the door and listen to what was being said. A little muffled, but she could pick out certain words here and there.

"So what's up, guys?" Sakura asked, turning to the two before her.

"Well, Sakura," Kakashi started. "It's come to my attention that –"

"Cut the bullshit, Sakura, I know you're lying about something," Shikamaru interrupted, taking an almost angry drag off of his smoke before finishing in a large exhale of blue-gray smoke. Inside the house, Temari was almost taken aback by the blunt force of his accusation. It caused her worry to become a little more evident. Her eyes shifted to her fan leaned up against the wall in the living room. She doubted she'd need to use it, but it never hurt to keep it in sight.

Sakura looked rather stunned for a moment, she too just a little surprised by the force behind Shikamaru's voice. She smiled, almost awkwardly as she drew her brow together and looked between them. "I'm sorry? What, uh…what do you mean?"

He took another exasperated drag off of his smoke and pointed the burning ember at the house for emphasis. "Don't think I didn't notice that little exchange between your new friends. They looked awful surprised to hear how you got that ankle brace."

She thought about keeping up the charade, trying to play dumb and avoid questioning, but she knew better. She knew Shikamaru better than to assume he'd roll over and accept it. She sighed, folding her arms over her chest and looking to the ground. "Well, what did you expect?"

"The truth." It was Kakashi that had spoken, his voice was low and soft, meant for only present ears. There had been just the slightest amount of disappointment in his voice, almost undetectable, but it stood out to Sakura like a siren. She felt her heart sink a little, suddenly unsure of her choices now that they'd upset her teacher.

"The truth…" Sakura began, her eyes falling to the ground as if looking among the pebbles for the right words. "The truth is difficult."

"What happened?" Shikamaru asked, his eyes flickering to the patio curtain. He could see just the faintest markings of a shadow in front of the light from the house. He figured it was Temari, listening in on their conversation. He'd remembered how she looked when she opened the door, a look of surprise lifting her features and widening the deep blue depths of her eyes. Then all at once, it was as if she recognized him, and suddenly her surprise made way for apprehension. If he hadn't already had his suspicions _that_ would have definitely caught his attention.

"A lot of things happened," Sakura sighed, turning away from them to walk to the stone ledges of the back garden, looking once more upon the spiny cactuses and sharp Yucca plants.

"Just start at the beginning," Kakashi suggested, coming to stand by his young student, offering some moral support.

"I wasn't lying when I said that I almost didn't make it back here," she confirmed, not wanting any doubt about the necessity of her being in the desert city. "If it hadn't been for them I would have died out there. It was one of Temari's scouts that picked up my beacons. I was sending pulses into the sand hoping to be noticed. But I was too far out, Temari told her to just keep tabs on me rather than investigate on her own. They decided that it would be best for Gaara to check it out," she explained, earning an understanding nod from the two men at her sides. "I was taken to the hospital and spent the night there."

"So where did the brace come from then?" Shikamaru asked. "If not from your _hard fall_ , then where?"

Sakura took a breath as if to brace herself for the confession. "I was attacked."

"When?" Kakashi demanded. "By _who_?"

"Our enemy," she answered. "It happened yesterday afternoon, I don't know how, but he wrapped something around my foot and tried to drag me from the city. Got a few cuts and bruises, and I got the brace because it damn near severed my Achilles tendon. Yet again," she said, her eyes falling hard on the two she spoke to as if to emphasize her words. "If it hadn't been for Gaara, I wouldn't be here. He got to me before I left the city limits, took me back to the hospital and Lady Chiyo fixed up my foot."

"Anything else?" Kakashi asked, his voice a tad bit apprehensive as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know if there was or not.

Sakura thinned her lips, her eyes falling to the ground once again. "Well…there was the second attack…"

"The _second_ one?" he gaped. "You've been here _three days!_ "

"Yeah…" she muttered, almost a little embarrassed now. "I had a rough second day."

Kakashi sighed roughly, running a hand through his hair again before rubbing his eyes. "Okay, all right, what happened after the first attack?"

Sakura nodded, looking back to the house briefly before returning her attention to her teacher and friend. "I was put under watch here so that Temari and Kankuro could keep an eye on me while Gaara left the city to see if he could find anything in the desert. As you know," she said. "He was successful in that endeavor."

"So the attack happened while he was gone?" Shikamaru asked.

Sakura nodded. "It's the only way anyone would ever attempt something here." She sighed, a little frustrated with herself after having to confess to her assaults. "I couldn't sleep, everyone else was already in bed and I just figured some fresh air would do me good. I came out here, just for a few minutes, but I'm pretty sure the guys that jumped me were already here scouting out the place. I walked outside alone and they took their opportunity." Kakashi had gone tense, his jaw clenched tight and his shoulders rigid. "It wasn't much," Sakura explained, trying to reassure him. "And honestly," she said, her voice a little crestfallen. "I tried to give them a chance to think better and stop. I thought maybe they'd wise up, but that wasn't the case."

"You handled it?" Kakashi asked, his voice low. It was rather obvious that she had, but she couldn't blame him for wanting details.

"I did. I threw one of them into the side of the house to wake up Temari and Kankuro. Gave the other a good beating and that was that."

"Were they ever apprehended? Did you get identification?" Kakashi asked, his voice suddenly gone to that official and political tone, not the easy going nature he normally spoke in.

Sakura nodded, her eyes stooping low and her lips turning in a shallow frown. "Yeah, we did."

"So who were they?" Shikamaru interjected.

Before Sakura could answer, the patio door was slid open and Temari stood in the open doorway. She stepped out and slid the door closed behind her, quickly stalking up to them with her face hard and her chin held high. "Three of my men and two of another scouting captain."

"Temari!" Sakura hissed between her teeth, shocked at her blunt confession.

"They were _your_ scouts?" Shikamaru questioned, his arms folding over his chest as he turned to squarely look at her.

She nodded, fully accepting the responsibility of her team. "Yes, the two who attacked her were taken to the tower for questioning and their partners were rounded up that same night. They've all been locked up."

"That's _all_?"

Sakura placed a hand on Shikamaru's shoulder, pulling him back a step and trying to settle him. "I'm not taking any action against them," she explained. "I trust Temari and her superiors to make this right."

"We have ways of dealing with this type of insubordination," she affirmed, her voice going low and incredibly smooth. It damn near sent a chill up Sakura's spine to hear that voice coming from her lips.

"Really, you guys," Sakura said, coming to stand by Temari in a show of solidarity. "I'm fine, everything is fine now. They were stupid kids who didn't think about what they were doing, worse things have happened."

Temari snorted at this, a smirk on her lips as she shook her head. "Anybody trying anything here is as stupid as they come." She shrugged as she continued. "Gaara may not have been here, but of course he was gonna find out, I don't even need to tell him."

Kakashi suddenly looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Temari glanced over at him, her brow pinched in a bit of confusion as well, as if she figured the answer to his question were an obvious one. "This is our house, our home base, he always knows. _Always_."

Sakura nodded, remembering how the ground had seemed to shift as she was first taken down, remembering how she could feel something moving under the sand, looking at her. "It's taken care of," she stated, hoping that she sounded confident enough to end the string of questions.

She was wrong.

Kakashi sighed, a quiet groan slipping out as he did so, and he rubbed his eyes. "Well what do you expect me to do, Sakura?" he asked, suddenly sounding rather impatient. "I've got a mission report to file when we get home, _events_ to include, _details_ to explain. And it's about _you_ , which means that report goes straight to the Hokage's desk. Am I expected to lie to her for you?"

"No!" she gasped. "No, not at all. I'd never ask that of you. I just," she paused, suddenly unsure of her plan. "Just let me talk to her. I'll take the report to her myself if I have to, I just know she'd take it better if she heard it straight from me."

Kakashi and Shikamaru shared a look, something very skeptical passing between them before they looked back at her. Shikamaru seemed to think for a moment. "You'd take on the task of telling her yourself?"

"It's what seems best," she answered. He nodded, seeming satisfied to know that his ass wasn't as much on the line as he thought.

"Why did you keep this from them?" Kakashi asked. "From Naruto and Sasuke? They really were worried about you."

She had expected to feel guilty, to regret lying to her team and those she trusted most, but what left her lips was a short and sharp chuckle. "Are you kidding?" she asked, her brow pulled together as she spoke through a laugh. "You _know_ how Naruto is. He'd worry himself into an early grave over nothing, and _Sasuke_?" She scoffed, already able to see that sour face of his, and shook her head. "He'd only start picking fights. With me disappearing, then turning up in old enemy territory…he'd be looking for a reason to lose whatever trust he's got left."

Kakashi thought this over, Temari standing a little awkwardly to the side yet refusing to back away at the mention of their old feud. It seemed Shikamaru was evaluating her again, and Sakura only waited for what her teacher might say next.

"Shikamaru," he said, his voice a little lower than Sakura would have liked. For some reason, that voice always reminded her of her dad. "Why don't you head back, I have to talk with Sakura about something else before I leave."

He paused a moment, looking between everyone before nodding, and retrieved his pack to pull out another smoke for the walk back. "Fine," he sighed. "But what should I tell the guys?"

"That it's none of their business for all I care. They'd expect that from you."

Shikamaru pursed his lips in thought before offering up a shrug and a nod. Temari stepped forward, sensing how the air between Sakura and her teacher had suddenly changed, and felt that this was one conversation her eavesdropping would not be welcome in. "Why don't I walk you back?" she offered, gesturing to the gateway off to the side of the yard. "It can be easy to get turned around at night."

Shikamaru brought his pack to his mouth and pulled out a smoke, he struck a match and the end of his cigarette glowed brightly in the darkness of the backyard. He waved the flame of the match as he took a breath of fumes and shrugged again. The air was filled with the musty and toxic scent of smoke as he exhaled. "Whatever."

Temari scowled at him, waving some smoke from in front of her face, and motioned for him to follow. They disappeared out the side gate, into an alley that ran between the backyards of the neighborhood, and headed out into the night.

Now alone with her teacher, Sakura turned to him with a new sense of apprehension. She had a good idea of what he was about to say. She'd been expecting it more so than being called out in her lying.

"So," he started, crossing his arms and turning to face her fully. Standing squarely in front of her it was easy to be slightly intimidated by his stature. "Let's talk about what happened at the gate. You want to explain that to me?"

"I just did," she tried, hoping that maybe, by some stroke of luck, it might work.

"Oh, no," he said shaking his head. "You know I mean the way you showed up out of nowhere with Gaara. Did you honestly think no one was going to say anything?" She looked to the ground, shrugging as she did so. "You want to tell me what you're thinking?"

Sakura felt her shoulders tense and her whole body seemed to prickle. She'd heard that tone before, yet again – mostly from her father, and it always caused a rather rebellious nature to blossom forth within her. Suddenly feeling bold, she looked back up to Kakashi, her eyes meeting with his and her face turning hard and stubborn. "What I'm thinking?" she repeated. "You mean tell you why I've suddenly gone crazy? Is _that_ it?" She scoffed, throwing her arms together over her chest in a stubborn display. "Well, I haven't. Not a damn bit."

"Sakura," he began, suddenly trying a softer approach upon the sound of her tone. "I just mean that it might be a little dangerous."

"Of course it is!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands out in a sudden gesture. "Of course he's a _little dangerous_! So is Naruto, so is Sasuke, and so are _you_! I mean, hell, I spend hours a day _alone_ with one of the most dangerous women in our entire country while she beats me senseless, and she's in _charge_ of us all!"

"Sakura, you know that's different…"

"You know what I _know_ is different?" she challenged, her voice threatening to lose that confident edge. "I know that the guy that took me out of certain death in the desert is _not_ the guy that we chased out of the forest after the attack." Her jaw clenched, threatened to tremble, and she took a sharp breath to steady herself. "I was done out there, I had _nothing_ left, and he didn't just finish me off; he took me to a _hospital_. I got attacked and damn near dragged from town, he didn't just let it happen; he _stopped_ it. And what's more; he went off alone and killed our enemy. _Our_ enemy. He's the only reason I'm still breathing."

"But," he added, his tone suggesting he was trying to clarify something. "He's also the reason that you almost _weren't_ breathing anymore."

Sakura paused a moment, looking at him in slight confusion. "Yeah," she stated flatly, not about to try and excuse what had happened. "A lot of people have tried to kill me. A lot of people have hit me, beaten me, and kicked me while I was down. So what?" She sighed an exhausted huff and scuffed her foot against the ground, scattering sand and pebbles as she did. "I don't know," she mumbled, her tone suddenly dropping to something more somber. "It's like…when I look at him I see what could have happened to Naruto, you know? What he could have become if he'd been fed those same lies and if they'd tried to get rid of him the way they've tried with Gaara. But then I look at Naruto and I see…" she paused, taking a breath and trying to think of the right words. "I see a reflection of what I think Gaara can become. But you want me to tell Sasuke that?" She scoffed. "Forget it. I couldn't do that, he wouldn't trust him. He'd think Gaara was only trying to manipulate me."

Kakashi paused a moment, letting her words sink in for all their worth, and took a moment to appreciate one of the main reasons why he thought she was a perfect fit for a team with Naruto and the Uchiha. A smart one, she was a kind person with endless patience and compassion. Just what that lonesome boy had needed. And perhaps not _just_ that particular boy. "Do you trust him?" he asked, his words hushed between them.

"Yeah," she answered, not missing a moment. "I do"

Kakashi worried, but then again he knew he'd always worry, and relented to giving it one last go before leaving her to her own devices. She was growing up, taking mentoring from the Hokage herself, and was needing less and less of his guidance. "But…why?"

"Because someone has to!" she hissed back, suddenly sour again, or perhaps just tired of the subject. "Someone outside of his damn brother and sister has to! I guess it's gonna be me." She frowned, turning to glare at the dirt before muttering with bitter words. "Whatever, tell the guys whatever you want. It wouldn't be the first time I've disappointed them."

Kakashi paused, tempted to just give her a hug and try and take away some of the stress she'd accumulated over the past few days. He didn't, however, because moments like this always made him doubt if he was a good fit for a teacher. Perhaps he got too attached, cared too much, but with his little bunch of students…it was hard not to. "No," he muttered after a moment, his quiet voice almost lost in the emptiness of the garden. "No, I won't tell them anything. You can whenever you feel that it's right. Just…just be careful."

She nodded, her eyes still low to the ground and obviously deep in thought.

He stood there a moment, just watching her eyes shift and her brow scrunch, and sighed before running a hand through his hair. "Well," he huffed. "I'm beat. I'll let you get some rest. I'll see you bright and early though."

"Mhm," she mumbled, nodding and looking up to meet his eyes. "Yeah, in the morning."

He nodded, turning as he did so to make his way to the back gate. "Goodnight, Sakura, be safe, okay?" She nodded again, folding her arms over her chest and holding them close in the chilling night air. Kakashi walked through the gate, shutting it quietly behind him, before starting off down the dark and shadowed street.

Sakura took a breath, her throat and her chest suddenly tight and constricted, and tried to calm herself. She'd let the subject matter work her up, she'd gotten defensive and just a little temperamental. After a few shaky puffs of breath, she felt calm and gazed up at the moon hanging high in the starry sky. It was another clear night flooding the land with soft blue light and an endless expanse of stars for one to admire. She brought her hands to her face, rubbing her eyes and the bridge of her nose as she processed what she'd told her teacher, what she'd told Shikamaru. She nearly groaned, cursing herself for allowing such things as her teammate's rivalry and suspicion keep her from honesty, for involving Temari in this, for involving Gaara in this. Did he _really_ need any more shit on his plate?

No…of course not, yet here she was.

She did groan this time, a quiet and pathetic little thing eking past her lips, and pulled her fingers roughly through her hair. She looked to the ground, glaring down at the sand and pebbles, and nearly missed the fact that it was moving.

The tiny grains along the ground shifted, piling up against one another next to her feet. It moved along her sandals, sliding past the soles of her shoes and tugging on her heel before slipping away over the ground. She turned to follow it as it vanished under her, and watched it slither along the patio and up the side of the house. In a flash, that dusty little wisp of sand flew over the roof and out of sight.

She would have smirked, maybe even chuckled at this obscure way to get her attention, but she only paused, a small frown forming on her lips as she stared at the roofline, her heart suddenly sinking deeply in her chest. She'd known Gaara was home, it was impossible not to, but with him so close it was difficult to discern exactly _how_ close he was. She pulled her bottom lips between her teeth, rolling it there for a moment in thought. Just how much of that discussion had Gaara heard?

Sakura took a step toward the side of the house, to where the sand had slithered away, to where an old wooden ladder rest leaned against the wall in the shadows of the back patio. She touched the wood, smoothed over by ages of wind and sand, and placed a foot on the first rung. Climbing the ladder, she realized just how much she had tuned out that rhythmic pulsing of power that radiated from him, she'd simply be overcome if she didn't. But perhaps she shouldn't have shut it out so well, she hadn't noticed he was so close when she took the boys outside, well within earshot for someone as keen of senses as Gaara was, and she suddenly worried what he might think, what he might say.

She pulled herself atop the roof and, above the shadows of buildings and palms, the open space glowed under the starlight. Gaara sat at the other end of the roof, slouched against the wall of the second floor, with his knees bent in a nice perch for his arms. He was quiet, still as a stone, and just looking out to the empty streets and the walls that blocked the horizon. Sakura stepped closer, careful not to slip or step too hard on the roof, and once close enough she simply sat, crossed her legs, and joined him in looking out into the night.

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

Of course, as to be expected, he'd heard everything.

Sitting there at his usual perch on his roof, he'd listened as the two men had approached his home, knocked on his door, and stepped into his house. They'd excused themselves to the backyard, perfectly open for his eavesdropping, and there had only been a few things said that had been hushed enough to avoid his detection. He'd known they would show up, Shikamaru was far too keen in his ability to notice subtleties to expect anything else, and he'd listened carefully over the words that were said. Curious as to what sort of explanation Sakura could muster up, he was surprised to hear so suddenly confess the truth of her stay in the desert city.

Gaara had held his breath in trepidation, sure he knew what was to come when she relayed the details of her attacks, but it seemed she was better at dealing with the worries of her team than he or his siblings would have thought. Smoothed it over quite well, in his own opinion. Until that is, Shikamaru had left with his sister, leaving Sakura alone with her teacher in the dark garden. That was when _he_ had become the centerpiece of their conversation. He'd listened more carefully then, wondering what Sakura was going to say, and was conflicted over her answer.

She shouldn't have said those things. Building him up like that? Throwing caution to the wind and defending an old enemy that had tried to take her life? Under what? The pretense that other's had tried before him?

It was ludicrous, idiotic, and…he had to at least say _something_. Kakashi had left, hearing that his student was steadfast and resolute in her convictions, and relented to let her have her way. She stood out there for a moment, all alone in the back yard of his home, and he could feel the tension and frustration roll from her shoulders. It didn't fit her, it didn't compliment the nature of this strange woman at all. Gaara moved the sand in the garden, garnering her attention and steering her toward him. He'd been a little surprised to see that she had followed his lead in an instant, climbing up to his perch and sitting down silently at his side. She was still tense, he could feel it, and as much as he wanted to do something to ease that frustration, he was at a loss for what to do.

She took a deep breath, sighing it out as she picked at her fingers to distract herself, clearly readying herself to say something.

"You shouldn't have said those things," he said suddenly, cutting her off before she could try and justify herself.

She scoffed, shaking her head as she looked over the buildings and streets before them. "It doesn't matter," she muttered.

"No," he corrected, the normal hardness to his voice coming through. "It _does_ matter. It _always_ matters."

She thinned her lips, an obvious attempt to stop the slight quivering, and looked over at him with hard eyes. It wasn't like the other times, the greens of her eyes didn't burn with determination or anger toward him; it was hurt. "Well what was I supposed to say?" she snapped at him, the slightest bit of that hurt reflected in her voice. "I just –"

"You shouldn't be defending me against them," he interrupted. "That's not your burden to bear, Sakura."

"Maybe not," she agreed, her voice quieting to something softer. "But it's one I would shoulder gladly."

Gaara sighed, looking down to the roof on which they sat, and contemplated his next move. There was a weight to his right pocket that felt heavier than it was, weighed down by not only its physical mass but also its implications.

He'd retreated from the gate, disappearing in that cloud of sand and leaving Sakura to the care of her team. His home had been his first and only stop and he'd been looking for something while his siblings entertained their guests. It was a necklace, a small glass sphere with a cork at the top, one his sister had gotten as a young girl and hadn't worn in years. He doubted she would miss it. Taking the necklace with him to the roof, he had emptied the contents of the sphere; a pile of very fine sand poured from the pendant, dyed a deep blue color to match her eyes, and he'd scattered it to the wind. He had replaced the contents with his own sand, enriched with his chakra and very much an extension of himself, and popped the cork back on. Gaara had sat on the roof after that, just holding the pendant and watching the little grains swirl and churn inside the glass confinement. It had been stuffed in his pocket when he noticed his siblings come home with Sakura in tow and tried to decide if he should join them or just leave them to their own devices. The decision had been made for him when he noticed the approach of her teacher and Shikamaru, and he'd done his best to stay out of sight and not be noticed.

Now, as Sakura sat at his side and their company restricted to just themselves, he pulled the necklace from his pocket, the chain and pendant balled up in his fist. He'd intended to give it to her, a simple token to return home with, but he'd doubt he could put his intentions into the right words. He was still rather bad at them. Even inside of the glass he could still feel the sand swirl and pulse, a reflection of his own life beating and thumping in time within his chest, and he opened his hand to stare at it as it sat in his palm.

"What's that?" Sakura asked, her voice hushed and quiet as she leaned over to see what he had.

He shrugged, holding it over to her to take. "Take it." She did, her fingers grazing his palm as she picked up the chain and pendant.

Sakura held up it to the moonlight, watching as the shadows of the grains swirled and danced as they moved inside the glass, and felt that disembodied pulse fluttering between her fingers. "For me?" she asked, her voice almost lost to the night. He didn't say anything, he only nodded in return. "Why?"

Gaara held back his grimace, cursing himself for ever hoping she would just take it and leave it at that. He should have known better. "Just in case," he muttered, no longer able to look at the way her face had settled into that calm and soft expression she wore so well, fearful he'd only do something to ruin it.

"In case what?" she pressed, running the tiny links of the silver chain through her fingers.

He shrugged again. "In case you're ever back in the neighborhood...if you need something."

Sakura nodded, fixated on the mesmerizing way the sand moved about in the tiny glass container. She smiled then, placing the chain over her head and slipping the pendant safely below her shirt. It rested against her chest, just over her heart, and the rhythmic thumping in her chest resonated within the sand, relaying all that feeling and all that energy back to its master sitting at her side.

"Give me the picture," she said, turning to face him with that ever so expecting look back on her face.

Gaara froze, his heart damn near leaping from his chest at her words, and drew his brow together in confusion. "Picture?" he questioned.

She snorted out a laugh at his tone, again with that dorky look he was beginning to find so endearing. "Yes, Gaara," she said with a smile. "The picture. The one of me? From my file? The one you've had on you since my first night here." He didn't respond, only looked ahead with an anxious and uncertain look to his eyes. "You really think Temari wouldn't mention that it was gone? Or that she wouldn't even _notice_ that it was gone?"

He opened his mouth to speak, hoping that something smart would come out in his defense. He was mistaken. "Well…um…"

"Just give me the picture," she sighed, holding out a hand demandingly.

Hesitating a moment, Gaara wondered if he could simply ignore the request and forgo this embarrassment, but thought better of it. He let out a long and quiet sigh, his lips thinning into a hard line as he dug into his pocket to retrieve the picture he'd stolen from her file. He couldn't look at her, that smug little smirk pulling at her lips – so knowing and just a little taunting – only made him feel a fool for thinking he could get away with sneaking the photo. Holding it out for her, she snatched it up and studied her face on the photo.

"Hm," she mused, her lips pursing together in thought. "I never liked this picture," she said wistfully before looking over to him with a playful grin. "Didn't get enough of my good side."

He shrugged, not really knowing what she expected from him in response.

"Got a pen?" she asked, looking over to him while laying the picture against her knee.

Thoroughly confused yet ever curious of the strange woman's conduct, he nodded, reaching into the pocket on the strap to his guard, where he kept some simple supplies in case he needed to record information in the field. He pulled a short pen from the pocket, handing it to her.

She flipped the picture over, scribbling something on the black backside, before clicking the pen closed and handing both pen and picture back to him. There was clear hesitation as he paused a moment, sure that he wouldn't be getting the picture back after trying to sneak it away without detection.

"Just take it," she sighed, holding the picture even closer to him.

He took it and turned it over, to where she had written on the back. There were numbers scribbled over the back of the picture, and it took a second to register that it was, in fact, an address. "Sakura," he began, bewildered by the numbers. "This is…"

"Mhmm," she hummed. "It's my address."

"But…why?"

She shrugged, an echo of that playful grin pulling at her lips. "Just in case you're ever in the neighborhood."

He stared at the numbers, already committing them to memory, and mused over the implications of gesture. She'd given him her address, the location of her home and all her earthly belongings, an open invitation to visit her if he ever pleased. It was suddenly a very tempting idea, being invited into another's home under peaceful and friendly pretense. To have a place that was not his own but still welcomed him as if it was, to be told that even though his identity and his secrets were known, it didn't impact the desire to have his company.

He didn't say anything to this, being unsure of his ability to put his thoughts into words, and only nodded as he slipped the picture back into his pocket.

She placed a hand over her lips as she yawned, a long day spent under the sun finally getting to her. "I should go to bed, it's getting late," she sighed, running a hand through her pink locks to under its tangles. Gaara nodded again. "I'll see you in the morning? Before I go?" she asked, those vibrant eyes of hers – now weary and droopy with sleep – turned over to him.

"Yeah, in the morning."

She nodded, satisfied with his answer, and her lips tilted in the slightest of smiles before she picked herself up from the roof, brushing some dusty sand from her clothes. With quiet and careful steps she made her way back to the ladder, down into the garden, and back into the house. The patio door slid closed and he could faintly hear her steps as she walked through to the living room, said goodnight to his brother, and made her way upstairs.

The whole way he had felt that rhythmic pulsing of her heart, steady and effortlessly continuous, and wondered just how far she could get before he couldn't feel even the slightest flutter of that rhythm. He needn't wonder long, though.

In the morning, he would find out.

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×


	20. Part 20

Well, here it is, chapter 20 of Follow the Sun, the last chapter of this journey you've all joined me on. I had not expected this to draw out like it did, and it came as a fault in some chapters, but I am still glad that it turned out this way. I love this story, I've written other works for this pairing years ago but this one is my favorite. Not only that, but the feedback – compliments and constructive criticism alike – have been an amazing influence. Suggestions on pacing, character interactions, chapter conclusions, and more, I've taken these bits of advice to heart and hope that I will only become a better storyteller because of them. I'm so thrilled that I was able to snag even a few readers to bookmark this story and keep up with my updates. I hope I have served you well.

Now, before we dive into this long-anticipated finale, let's talk about some things. Because we _need_ to talk about some things.

To start, let's talk about Sakura. I've heard a lot of things about what people think about her and I know in the Narutoverse the spectrum can be pretty divided. Most either love her or hate her, with a few of us stragglers in between. Personally, I think she's got a lot of potential, I think she's come a hell of a long way from that bubbly little idiot in episode one, but I also feel that she fell way short of her potential in the canon series. She's become a master of her craft, she's saved countless lives (Gaara's family obviously included) and she's shown a natural knack for intelligence and spirit. But…oh, dear god…BUT! I feel all of this is second only to her childhood infatuation with Sasuke. Like _that_ was the only thing that really mattered about her character. If you haven't noticed, I don't like him, and it shows in my writing. (I'm also not sorry for it) It seemed impossible for her character to stand on her own and truly show us what she could do when – even as a maturing woman, growing into a strong-minded and able-bodied warrior as an adult – she always reverted back to being a little girl with a crush on the local bad boy.

Gross. (By the way, I'm very much aware of all the atrocities Gaara committed as a young adolescent, but hey…at least he woke the fuck up and worked hard to turn his life around.)

I feel none of her accomplishment were truly hers because, no matter what, it always circled back to Sasuke, it always went back to the guy that ignored her, hurt her, left everyone who cared about him with no remorse, and then proceeded to literally FIGHT them when they tried to bring him back. Like I said, I like realism in my characters, and no real person would still go after a douche canoe like that. I feel she would have had a waaaay better character arch in the show if she had renounced her love for her old teammate and resolved to love herself as she grew to deserve. (For more detail on this thought, refer to Naruto getting the _fuck_ over his crush on Sakura to be with someone who really appreciated him and he truly loved) Seriously, I think she turned out to be a total badass, but her adolescent love-struck ways do not become of a matured woman. So, for my writing, please understand she's going to be a little out of character so she has more room to grow and mature, and…let's be honest…it's not really a bad thing.

Now, on to the _real_ points of interest.

I have heard your concerns, I know you have needs, but no, Sakura and Gaara will not be " _together_ " at the end of this so just get that out of your head right now. That's never what Follow the Sun was going to be about. I wanted it to be about connection, the discovery of possibilities and building a solid foundation on which they could grow together. To take the idea I had and mash them together so young (15 – 16 in this fic, I always up the ages so I don't feel like a creep) and so haphazardly with no defining connections seemed like an insult not only to my readers but also to myself and my vision for this work. I wanted to make them like actual people, I wanted them to be somewhat relatable given the fantastic and extraordinary world that they live in, and I feel that the story is made deeper with these relatable feelings of doubt and uncertainty.

With that being said, yes, there _is_ a sequel. No idea what I'm gonna call it, but I've already written out some ideas for a few chapters so you'll be able to look forward to that if it strikes your fancy. It won't be set up the same as this fic, most likely longer chapters acting as their own little storyline, and I've got a good few of them fleshed out enough to call them actual entries to the work. I was already tinkering with the idea before and all the comments on this fic have made it official. I'm pretty sure I can upload another story with a link to it in Follow the Sun…but if anyone has more details or can give me some directions on how to do that, I would greatly appreciate it.

I know they aren't very popular, but I love this pairing. Gaara is my favorite anime character, has been for over a decade, and I think that Sakura's no-nonsense attitude, her willingness to raise her voice if necessary, and the experience and skills she gained from Tsunade, really compliment him. He needs someone who's not afraid to call him on the bullshit that would undoubtedly surface in a relationship, someone who could keep him interested and entertained with that wicked little temper of hers, and someone who is always shown to possess so much love and patience for those closest to her. I don't think he needs a shy little pet like Hinata is always written to be, or a dimwitted trophy wife like Ino usually is, or even a blubbering fangirl like Matsuri. (I have no issues with these characters, I just don't like the pairings.) I think they have a good balance, I think they complement each other, and I think that I'll never stray from this pairing as long as I shall live.

All that being said, I welcome you to read the final chapter and enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. (I apologize for the long time between these last two chapters, I was recently laid off due to my job shutting down and have been currently working my butt off at a new job. I was able to get a lot of writing done at my old job because of the vast lack of time demand, but I can say for sure that I will not be getting writing time at my new job so updates are probably gonna come farther between for the sequel.)

As always, you guys have been amazing, so wonderful and supportive, so encouraging and engaging with my story, I am thankful for you all, and I truly hope that you will continue to read my works in the future.

Best wishes for health, happiness, and everything in between;

~ LaceyJane

Follow the Sun, Part 20

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

The sun had not yet risen over the sandy sea of the desert, it only glowed on the distant eastern horizon, turning the dark blue skies a rich shade of violet. It would be another hour before the full blazing sphere rose over the curve of the land and it was a quiet moment in the city. It was also hazy out this morning, not the empty skies that had plagued this land with weeks of hard drought. There was moisture hanging out there, waiting to grow too heavy for the air, waiting to fall in life-saving droplets to the ground.

Gaara could practically smell it.

But he wasn't the only one awake at this early hour. In the house, below where he sat on the roof outside his bedroom window, he could hear shuffling and movement. Temari had woken first, quickly rinsing off in the shower before a small breakfast. She was a little antsy, he'd decided, and found himself wondering why. Sakura was going home, the Konoha soldiers were leaving their territory and their lives were returning to normal. But perhaps that was just it; normal. Always holding the opinion that his family's version of _normal_ was a pretty shitty normal, it wasn't a far stretch to say that Temari was upset with the turn of events too. She'd enjoyed the company of their guest, connecting with another person again, and it had been a welcome break in the hard life they lived.

Temari would probably miss her.

He would probably miss her too.

But Sakura was still asleep, soundly resting in the protected safety of his home, taking advantage of what little time was left to sleep. She would be awake soon, however, she had a guest approaching.

Gaara had first noticed a few minutes ago, a familiar energy moving closer as he kept tabs on it. It was Naruto, likely coming to fetch his companion, and it seemed he was taking his time walking through the strange town. It wasn't a long walk from the Sabaku home to the Inn the traveling team was staying at, and he closed the distance quickly enough. He stopped on the street outside their house, checking a little piece of paper before looking up at the house again. Likely looking at a written address, he nodded to himself before taking a step to their walkway.

That's when he'd finally noticed Gaara.

He paused as he looked up to the roof, Gaara silently staring down at him. With a slight shuffle of his feet, Naruto sighed, turning away from the front door to walk a path leading more toward his observer. He stopped on the sandy lawn of the house, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he turned his face up to greet him.

"Hey, Gaara," he said, an almost nervous grin on his face, trying his best with pleasantries.

Gaara nodded in return, feeling it would only be rude to stare.

Naruto let his grin fade, his eyes shifting to follow quiet thoughts, and he shrugged his shoulders. "You got a minute to talk?"

Gaara paused this time as his brow pulled together, not expecting this from him, and nodded. He got up from the roof, the sand around him already shifting and floating the air, and within a moment he was gone, just a swirling trail of thin sand slithering to the ground. Naruto took a step back as the grains piled and formed into their master. Standing silently and patient, Gaara crossed his arms and waited for what Naruto had to say. He'd always wondered how his first encounter with Naruto after their fight was going to go and he had to admit that it had always gone differently in his head. This seemed so…passive.

Naruto cleared his throat, clearly as ill-prepared for this as Gaara was. "So listen, I know we're not on the greatest of terms after everything that went down in –"

"I was wrong," he interjected, unable to risk a babbling rant from the man if there were matters to discuss. Naruto paused, unsure of how to read that voice of his, and waited for him to elaborate. " _We_ were wrong. I'll do what I can to make up for those transgressions."

True to his character, Naruto busted out into a wide grin at this. "Are you kidding? You already have!"

Perplexed and clearly showing it, Gaara persisted. "Nothing I've done could make up for that."

Naruto shook his head, snickering at him for something Gaara didn't understand. "Yeah it was pretty screwed, what you guys did, but I trust Sakura's judgment and if you're fine by her, well…I guess you're fine by me." He scoffed, that air of comedic intent suddenly gone from his face. "After Sakura vanished I was halfway sure we'd only end up finding a body," he said, his voice dropping with his eyes, something somber settling over his face. "But hearing that she turned up here, and hearing that you're the one that got her from out there…I mean, I don't know how to thank you, Gaara. She'd be dead if it wasn't for you, or your sister, or the scouts that first noticed her. I don't ever want to lose her," he said, his eyes shifting the ground as he ran a hand through his choppy blond hair.

It seemed as though he was having trouble explaining this, like trying to put training wheels on a conversation, but it wasn't necessary. Gaara was pretty sure he could figure it out. If he had lived another life – one like Naruto's perhaps – he doubted he would have wanted to lose her either. He didn't voice this, however, and he only nodded to show he was still listening.

"So, yeah, just wanted to say thanks. I owe you one for this."

Gaara shook his head. "Just consider us even."

Naruto nodded, easily agreeing to his terms, and looked into the windows of the house. An empty living room stared back at him. He sighed while rubbing his eyes, maybe trying to rid them of residual sleep, and gestured to the door. "She awake?"

"Not yet," he answered.

"Jeeze, she's sleeping in like I do."

Gaara shrugged, stepping away from their spot and moving toward the front door. "Come on in, if you want." Gaara stepped inside his house, Naruto following closely after him.

Temari looked up from stirring some sugar into her coffee to see them walk in. Gaara nodded to her as he joined her in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup as well. He didn't go for the cream and sugar like his sister did, he preferred his coffee black and bitter, nothing too soothing in the morning.

Naruto stood awkwardly in the living room, his eyes shifting over everything and his hands stuffed in his pockets like he were at a museum; ever curious, but unwilling to risk touching anything.

"Good morning," Temari said nodding to their surprise house guest. "You want some coffee, Naruto?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Nah, I'll be fine."

She nodded, looking to her brother in a sidelong glance only to find him staring down at his coffee almost as awkwardly as Naruto. "I was just about to wake Sakura. She's upstairs, third door on the left if you want to."

He looked to the stairway, nodding in thanks as he passed by the kitchen, and disappeared with quiet steps.

Temari turned to her brother then, watching with mild suspicion over what had transpired in their front yard. "So," she began, casually leaning back on the counter. "How did it go?" There was no sense in trying to beat around the bush, Gaara needed a more direct approach.

"Fine," he muttered after a long drink of his coffee, almost savoring the way it burned on his tongue.

Temari nodded, swirling her steaming drink in her own cup. "You guys good?"

Gaara nodded. "Yeah, we're good."

She nodded again, a tired a faint smile pulling at her lips. "Good."

They both nearly jumped when a sharp thud and the sound of wood scraping on wood came funneling down the stairs. Gaara felt Sakura's familiar energy burst to life, a frantic thumping echoing from the pendant that she, apparently, had worn to bed all night.

It was a very clear message; Sakura was awake.

 **…**

"Sakura?" Naruto whispered, cringing a bit as the old door creaked in its frame. "You awake?" Hearing nothing but shifting under the thin covers of the bed, he stepped into her room, the dim outside light from behind the curtain doing little to help him find his way. Moving carefully as not to frighten her, he stepped over to the pile of blankets on the bed…stubbing his foot on the nightstand as he did so.

The small table jerked from his foot, the feet scrapping across the floor, and he hissed out a curse. He'd been no further in trying to quiet himself, and the jostling items on the stand, when he was suddenly covered in a flurry of blankets and the soft blue light in the room was overtaken by a dim, vibrant green. The bed creaked loudly, the frame knocking up against the wall, and he tried desperately to free his hands.

"Sakura wait!" he cried, finally able to pull the blanket from his face. "It's just me!" He leaned back, knowing all too well what a smack to the head from her felt like, and was inclined to avoid yet another.

She was standing on the bed, hair splayed wild and snarly from her deep sleep, and her eyes still didn't seem to be quite all there. She heaved in a panicked breath as she settled on his face. All that panic, however, quickly turned to aggravation. "Naruto!" she hissed, her brow pulling together over her green eyes. She bent down on the bed, pulling up a pillow and whipping it at him in a sudden fit. "You scared the crap out of me!"

He tried to duck to avoid the fluffy projectile, but she still managed to hit him square in the face. Not much he could do sitting on the floor like that. "I'm sorry," he pleaded, holding up a hand in defense against another pillow being snatched into her hands. "I ran into the table, I was just coming in here to wake you up!"

She still threw it at him. "Have you never heard of knocking!?"

A light flicked on, suddenly filling the dark room and gaining their attention. Naruto turned and Sakura looked up to find Kankuro leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his bare chest, silhouetted by the light from the hall. "Good morning, Sakura," he spoke in a tired voice from the door. He'd clearly just rolled out of his own bed down the hall and looked neither rested nor pleased with the two in the guest room. At least this time he'd managed to pull on some pants. "Could you please stop waking me up so damn early?"

She was hardly fazed by the bite to his voice and jabbed an accusing finger toward Naruto. "Take it up with _him_ this time," she snapped, hopping down off the bed and straightening her sleeping clothes.

Kankuro looked down to Naruto, pausing a moment before shaking his head. Overcome by a nightstand and a blanket, yet able to defeat a threat like Gaara; truly, he was an enigma.

"Hey," Naruto said a little meekly, giving up a rather pathetic wave as he did so.

Kankuro scowled, still cross with being woken up so rudely yet again, but relented to nod to the poor lad in greeting. "Anyone else I should know about?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow in question.

Naruto shook his head. "Everyone else went with Kakashi to get our supplies. Gotta meet them at the gate."

He nodded, a little relieved to know that today his life would go back to normal, and returned his attention to the reason for all of this disturbance; Sakura. She was raking her fingers through her hair, ridding it of snarls and tangles before her shower, and in doing so, her pink locks revealed a thin silver chain around her neck. He thought that was strange, he knew she hadn't arrived with a necklace, something so delicate wasn't a smart item in the field and she had been on a mission at the time of her disappearance. Then, with a flip of her hair over her shoulder, the pendant slid up the chain for just a moment, a small yet instantly recognizable glass globe. Only it wasn't filled with the trademark blue it had been made with, this time it was brown, and he had a damn good feeling where it had come from.

He held back his mild shock and confusion, his mind instantly reeling with how his endlessly awkward and socially inept brother could have ever accomplished such a feat…or even when…and if that was the case then, perhaps, his bothersome encounters with this woman weren't quite over after all.

"You gonna shower?" Sakura asked, discretely tucking the thin chain below the straps of her shirt. Naruto had missed the small action, but Kankuro had already noticed, and it only proved that – perhaps – this was meant to stay a secret.

He shook his head and covered a wide yawn. "Nah, you can have it first."

She quirked a brow. "But don't you have runs today?"

Naruto looked between them, his face shifting a little as he observed the manner in which these two conversed. They'd been enemies at one point, and in seemingly no time at all, they were greeting one another in the morning as if she'd always been here.

Kankuro shrugged. "Temari will walk you to the gate, I won't be heading to the post until she's done anyway. She's in charge, not me."

"All right," Sakura said, placing a hand before her lips to surpass a yawn. She stepped away from the bed, and around Naruto in his pile on the floor. "I won't be long, Naruto," she said as Kankuro stepped out of the door to let her through.

"Uh," Naruto said, pausing a moment as Kankuro looked back down at him. Nothing threatening, just curious and…bemused perhaps. "Okay."

Sakura disappeared down the hall, faint footsteps retreating and the sound of a door being shut, and Naruto suddenly didn't know what to do with himself. He felt a little awkward, to say the least, he had hoped that Sakura would be up and ready like she normally was and he hadn't expected a lengthy stay at the Sabaku house. Kankuro seemed to notice this hesitation and uncertainty.

He sighed in his weariness, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Did you eat?" Without a sound, Naruto paused before shaking his head. "Of course," he sighed again. "Breakfast is in your supplies…want a bite?" Naruto nodded this time, a slow and uncertain one that seemed to test the waters of polite interaction with such a pristinely held family. Kankuro began to head for the stairs, waving for Naruto to follow. He picked himself up from the floor, tossing the bedding back into its rightful place, albeit in a heap, but at least it was off the floor. His stomach growled, the promise of real food and not just energy efficient trail rations encouraging him back downstairs with the bizarre family.

 **…**

Sakura stepped into the bathroom, shedding clothes as she moved to the bath and pulled the curtain. She started the water, letting it warm since the desert morning was still a bit chilly in the absence of the sun, and sat on the toilet as she undid the bindings on her brace. She'd wear it home for good measure and to make sure it wasn't unnecessarily strained, but she figured some time to let her skin breathe and be a little flexible would do it well. It still felt a little tight, and sore sometimes if she bent her joint too much, but with time and some exercise it would return to normal. Bending down to massage the sore joint, the little pendant swung at the end of the chain.

She touched the globe and held it gently between her fingers. The sand still swirled in the pendant, beating with a rhythmic and powerful pulse. Well…powerful considering how little there was. It only seemed fair, she figured, that she could take a little piece of her misadventure home with her as long as she left something too. It wasn't much, and perhaps it fell short of the meaning that this little gift had. But for someone like Gaara, she imagined that being given the place of one's personal dwelling was just as much of an implication towards friendship. At least, she hoped he would see it as that.

The water began to steam, fogging the mirror and warming the closed room. She stepped into the shower, letting the warm water relax her muscles and ease her into awareness for her journey home. She was happy, she was going to see her family again, see the little furball that kept her feet warm at night, resume her training with her mentor and have many more missions with her team ahead of her. She owed it all to the people living in this house, their hospitality, their watchful care, and their support when she was sure things would only turn on her, it all made her safe return home a possibility.

She was grateful and even found herself hoping that she might be able to return someday under better and more convenient circumstances. The desert had nearly killed her, but when given a better perspective it held an enchantment she couldn't deny. Beauty, power, struggle, and flourishment all took place among those mysterious dunes. She wanted to see what it was like when the rains finally came, when the festivals lit up the night sky like a second sun, when the storms swept the countryside and rearranged the land. She wanted to be here for it, and she wanted to be here with them, with the Sabakus when she finally saw it with her own eyes.

The water ran over her skin and warmed her tired muscles, and she once again found herself touching the small pendant around her neck. Sakura smiled, a new and unexpected warmth blossoming in her chest, and thought that, just maybe, she would be able to return to this desert sooner with the help of the established connections she had made here.

 **…**

She had finished her shower, dried her hair and thrown in up out of her face for her long trip home, and as she gathered the few items she'd arrived with she stopped in the hallway before heading downstairs. She could hear Naruto talking with Kankuro and Temari, just muffled conversation, but there was a different sensation that caught her attention over the people in the kitchen. There was a pull from around her neck, a slight quaking that seemed to tug on the pendant. The sand would always try to get back to its master, and in a moments decision, she followed that magnetic force to a closed door.

She turned the knob, opening the door slowly and peaking inside. The room was dark, but from the light in the hallway she could make out a striking scarcity to the items spaced about. A bed, a closet, a nightstand, and a small table filled with odds and ends of papers and equipment. Pushing the door open a little further she noticed a familiar sight, a gourd leaned up against the wall by the window. The curtain was mostly drawn, letting in little light from the outside, but the pendant at her neck tugged under her shirt, trying to get nearer to the gourd. She stepped into the room, quickly crossing the empty space and pulling the curtain back from the window.

She didn't need to check, she knew he was out there. Naruto may have been a nice guy, but there was only so much of him that one person could handle. Gaara had probably met his limit rather quickly. She opened the window, slipping out quietly and resting on the sill. To her left, Gaara sat on the roof, staring off into the empty city streets, just as she had left him the night before. He didn't say anything to her, didn't acknowledge her arrival, and she didn't expect him to. Guaranteed, he had known she was standing outside his door, walking through his room, and he found no need to comment on what he had been expecting.

"Morning," she said, a small smile on her lips as she turned to him. He only nodded in return. "Not gonna come to the gates?' she questioned, feeling she already knew the answer. He shrugged and she took that as a no. "Well, before I go…thank you, Gaara. Again, for everything you did. And I appreciate you keeping me company." She turned that brighter smile on him again, the one that touched her eyes and lifted a lightness to her features. "I had fun."

He scoffed, unable to help it. "Fun?" he repeated. "You had _fun_?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, despite everything…like when I wasn't under attack, I had fun these past few days. So, thanks."

"Hm," he muttered, looking back down to the tiles roof of his home. He thought for a moment, the pulsing of her heart through the pendant echoing in his mind. "You should keep it on you," he said, his voice quiet and hushed between them.

Sakura touched the small necklace beneath her shirt. "The necklace?" He nodded. "In case I ever need anything?" He nodded again. "All right, but I have a condition."

He looked over at her then, a little bit of suspicion playing across his face. He was so guarded with everyone, so reserved and pent up, and she'd break that habit if she had any say in the matter.

"Next time I come visit - because I _will_ come visit - you've got to show me something amazing out there," she challenged, gesturing to the walls of the city, or more so; what lay beyond those walls.

"Amazing?" he questioned, not sounding too thrilled with the request.

She nodded, her bright smile turning into that mischievous little grin. "Yeah, like the canyons or the abandoned cities you told me about. I've always wanted to actually see an oasis too, they look so strange and out of place in the books I've read."

"You want me to do this just so you'll keep the necklace?" he asked, a monotone and less than enthused flatness to his voice.

She shrugged, looking back out to the quiet streets, to the glow on the horizon promising sun and heat. "I have a feeling you'll agree to it."

It was so presumptuous of her that he was deeply inclined to say no, but…she was right. If she truly wanted to see the secret gems of the desert, he had plenty he'd found over the years to keep her entertained for days. "Fine," he mumbled, trying to act as though he were merely rolling over for politeness. Her grin told him she knew otherwise.

She kept that smile, looking down to her bare feet and wiggling her toes. "I'm gonna miss you guys," she mumbled, her expression calm and serene while her voice dipped a little lower, contradicting the evenness of her face.

Gaara found himself wondering about this. She'd come to the desert alone and would be leaving it with her team and more allies in foreign lands, but he felt it went deeper than that. His sister had doted on her and protected her not only from their own people but also from the short-sighted whims of the council, his brother had kept her company and provided a presence as well as protection, and he himself had done everything in his power and knowledge to keep her out of harm's way. He wondered if she felt this way – happiness with a bit of melancholy – because she saw them as friends, no longer enemies but…companions.

He'd be okay with that.

"You'll be back," he said, sure and absolute in his words, and somehow the inevitability of her returning to the desert seemed to lift her features again.

"I hope so," she sighed, turning a light little smirk on him again. "You've got promises to keep." Ending this little taunt with a crooked grin and a snicker, she stretched her legs out before her and rubbed her bare arms in the chilly morning air.

"You should go inside," Gaara said after a moment. "They're waiting for you."

Sakura nodded, knowing full well that she couldn't keep them waiting too long, and pulled herself from the magnetic force that surrounded the man she shared the roof with. But before she slipped back in through his window, before she joined the team waiting at the gates, she leaned in. Tipping over in her seat, she leaned her head against his shoulder, perching her chin there and sighing at the heat that radiated from his throat and warmed her face. Gaara froze, the very arteries in his throat seeming to tighten, and his shoulders went impossibly stiff. She ignored it, however, and slipped a hand around his arm, giving it a firm but gentle squeeze in way of a hug goodbye. The simple gesture would mean just as much to him, she was sure.

"I'll see you soon," she said, her voice solidifying it like a promise as she released his arm and moved away from him. Suddenly his neck felt much colder without the warmth of her breath, he could still feel the pressure on his shoulder, the pressure on his arm, the residual heat from her touch being sucked away by the breeze. She was at the window now, slipping back through it with a quiet ease before giving him one last look. "And don't worry," she said, the tone of her voice giving away that crooked smile. "I'll be careful."

He nodded, if only to prove that he'd actually been listening, but didn't break his focus from the streets. A little overwhelmed, he didn't know what would become of him if he were to look at her face, to see those eyes that offered warmth and goodness to the world, and the quiet slithering through his mind started up again, always first in line to take away the good things he seldom found himself with. He cracked his knuckles, knowing this torment would only cease once she left his limit of perception, and by then she'd be long gone from the city. He could resume his normal battle with the beast then.

Sakura paused, noticing how he didn't look back at her, as if refusing to, and catching all too well the familiar sound of fingers popping in their joints. She couldn't ever hope to fathom what he or even Naruto went through day to day. The influence, the temptation, the lust for violence stemming from a deep source of wickedness that was not one's own self. After so many years, just how blurred did those lines become? How could one maintain a sense of being and a sense of self when there was never a break from the voices, never a moment's rest, never an end to that god awful torture of the human soul?

Many didn't believe such things were possible, the people of Gaara's government were a prime example to that, and she knew that once she left he would have new horrors and new enemies to face, ones that came from within, from his own people, from his very home. She wouldn't ask, it was too personal given the short time they'd spent together, but she hoped that one day she could hear about these things, even if only to offer release after years of loneliness and scorn. She thought it would do him good to speak these truths to another and have his injustices known and clarified to the world. But she wouldn't press these things now, there were still very many steps to take down the path he had chosen, and it was better to take them one step at a time.

"Gaara?" she asked, her voice quieting between them. He tilted his head back to show he'd heard her, but he never truly looked at her. "Be safe, okay?" He nodded, a bit too quickly for her liking, as though it seemed he'd only heard her voice and not the words she spoke, not the implications that went with them. "I mean it," she pressed, a little more strength to her voice now. "You can do a lot of things but…but you're not indestructible, no one is."

"I'll be careful," he said, agreeing to her terms, and this time he did look back to her, just a sidelong glance, and only for a moment. "Promise."

Sakura nodded, slipping back into his room and muttering a soft and quiet goodbye once again before heading back down the stairs.

He could feel her heart beat as she stepped into the kitchen, hear her voice as she laughed with Naruto and his siblings, and he could feel his own heartbeat in his throat; like a painful thumping, like he'd bitten off more than he could chew and now he just couldn't swallow. He cracked his knuckles again, remembering how the heat of her face had felt on his neck, how her small hand had gripped his arm and held on tightly, how her voice had sounded; all hesitant and thick with worry.

Without even trying she had shaken him to his core, confused and bewildered him, made him question himself as well as her. But in all of this contradiction and inner conflict, he found himself wondering just when she might one day return to his sands. He'd be a better man then, he'd have proven himself as a better man, and hopefully, she would recognize this and proclaim it as she had done earlier, as she had done for Naruto, as she constantly did for Sasuke even though he was sure he didn't deserve it.

He would follow her, make sure she wasn't given trouble on their way through town, make sure that the paths they were set to travel were safe and clear, and see that she left his city and his country safely and in the security of her team.

But still, there was a heaviness to his hearts rhythm, there was a weight on his shoulders he couldn't shake, and there was a voice in his head that whispered doubt and uncertainty whenever her face crossed his mind. It was because he knew better, he'd always known better. His whole life wasn't a complete lie, he'd learned valuable lessons he wouldn't soon forget, but even now as he continued to strive forward to make up for his transgressions and his crimes…he just knew better. After all…

" _No one can ever_ really _love a monster."_

 **…**

Temari ducked out the patio door, leaving Kankuro in the company of Naruto for just a few moments. She'd meant to do this earlier but their surprise guest had thrown her morning plans. Now Sakura would be ready to leave soon and she was running out of time.

Before the departure of the Konoha team, she had intended to give Sakura a little gift, a simple reminder of her time here in the desert. She wasn't sure exactly what had possessed her to do this, but with her hair tied out of her face and a small gardening spade in hand, she knelt in the rough and sandy gravel of their backyard. She speared the ground, shoving the spade deep into the loose dirt around the base of a small cactus, and began working her way around the plant. It was a barrel cactus, one that had grown separate from the dense bundle, and within a few moments, skilled hands had the plant out of the ground. She moved it to a tiny clay pot, just the right size for the small plant, and patted it tightly with fresh dirt and some water for the trip home.

If it survived the trek back through the desert she was sure that it would be ready to bloom in a few days, a bright red flower to add a burst of color to the desert, a burst of color she'd have with her in the forest. She pursed her lips, brow pulling together over her speculating eyes. Perhaps it was a little cheesy, maybe even presumptuous to think Sakura would want a gift from her, and now that it was out of the ground she was almost tempted to put it back.

"What are you doing?"

Keeping the potted plant out of sight, Temari turned and saw Sakura standing in the open patio door. Her hair was still damp, her brace was back on her foot, and she had a steaming cup of coffee clutched between cold fingers.

"Well…" Temari began, her eyes flickering back the crude hole in the ground at her side. "Um, come here."

Sakura obeyed. Stepping off the dusty stone slabs of the patio she walked over to Temari and took a sip of her coffee. "What's up?"

"So, I was thinking," she began, feeling a little awkward now. "I've actually enjoyed having you around these past few days, despite everything, and I really do hope that you'll come back to visit us some time."

The straightness of Sakura's face slowly gave way to soft eyes and a warm, small smile. "I had a good time too, and I'd love to come back if you'd have me. Under better circumstances, of course."

Temari smiled her notorious crooked smile and presented the little-potted cactus. There was a moment of relief for her when Sakura immediately set down her cup of coffee and took the clay pot between her hands. "Barrel cactus," Temari clarified with a bit of pride after seeing her new friends face light up. "I just dug it out of the garden, figured you'd want some memorabilia."

Sakura nodded, looking over the tiny spines of the stout little plant. "I love it," she said, her voice solid and steadfast in her statement. "How do I take care of it though?" she asked, looking to Temari for guidance as not to kill the poor plant.

Temari laughed. "Oh, hunny, cactuses thrive on neglect. Just put it in a window and wet the soil every few weeks. They're tough to kill. Kankuro's got one in his room that he hadn't watered in years, it was withered, slumping over, and I thought it was dead. But a cup of water and a few days later it was good as new. You won't need anyone plant sitting this little guy for you while you're away from home."

Sakura thought of her father, the man notorious for killing houseplants by sheer neglect, and was relieved to know that this was one plant she would always find exactly how she left it. "Thanks, Temari. I'll keep it safe on the way home. I love it." She set the pot down on the stone ledge of the garden before pulling Temari in for a sudden and unexpected hug. She stiffened a little bit, it seemed the whole family wasn't used to such affection, but within a moment relented to reciprocate the embrace.

"You should get going," Temari said as she pulled back and retrieved Sakura's coffee cup. "Everyone is most likely already at the gates."

"I know, I'll get my things and let Naruto know, you coming with?"

Temari rolled her lip between her teeth, eyes cast to the east where the glow on the horizon had grown and began to creep over the walls of the city, casting long and dark shadows through a contradicting warm and bright light. "I don't know, it's getting late. Maybe I should head to the post…"

Sakura shot her a suggestive smile with a quirked brow. "Oh?" she teased. "You don't want to come say goodbye to Shikamaru?"

Temari flushed at this, the smooth, pale skin of her face suddenly smoldering in the dim morning light. She thinned her lips shut into a hard line, glaring at Sakura and huffing out a response. "Why would I do that?" she demanded, hoping her tone would help her evade the scrutiny in her friend's green eyes.

Sakura shrugged as she turned back to the house to ready Naruto for their walk to the gate. "I just think he'd be a little offended if you didn't see him off." Reaching the open door, she turned and gave Temari a stubborn glance. "And for the record, so would I."

Temari sighed and stepped after Sakura into the house, all the while trying to quell the heat on her cheeks before her brother could notice, she'd never hear the end of it then.

…

"Running late, are we?" Kakashi said as their party was approached at the gates.

He stood in the shadows of the tall walls, Sasuke was at his side, the ANBU were double-checking their provided gear, and Shikamaru leaned against the cool stone smoking his morning cigarette. Blue-gray smoke floated out into the open air, catching the morning light and twisting away in the wind. His eyes had flickered over the group, resting on Temari for a moment before quickly averting his gaze. A little bold after their solitary walk through town the previous night, she walked right over to him and struck up a casual conversation.

Sasuke looked sour, unhappy that they'd been made to wait, and as usual, it seemed he was ready to blame Naruto for their delay. To avoid this, Sakura merely shrugged in response to her teacher.

"I slept in, what can I say?" She walked up to Kakashi as he held out a small pack for both she and Naruto. Checking over their belongings, she hoisted the pack over her shoulder and settled it comfortably in place as Naruto did the same. "You been waiting long?"

Kakashi shook his head. "Not too long, no. You ready to go?"

She nodded, a little cord of melancholy playing on her heart as she thought of leaving these mystifying dunes behind for her home among the trees and rivers. She was homesick, she desperately missed the familiarity of the forest, but she'd been wooed and damn near seduced by the ancient and mysterious ways of the desert. She brushed this bit of sadness aside though, knowing that one day she would return and truly see all that this alien world had to offer. "All set."

"Good," Sasuke spoke sharply, perhaps tired, perhaps annoyed, or maybe he had been worried as Naruto had been, and now he only wanted the safety of the country they knew best. But still, his tone always had a way of seeming less than thrilled with her. "Let's get going."

She nodded again, knowing that she couldn't draw out her time here any longer, but before they started off she turned to Temari again, pausing her conversation with Shikamaru – a simple farewell from the way it sounded – and pulled out a folded piece of paper from her pocket. Handing it to her, Temari pulled her brow together in question.

"I never got a chance to say goodbye to Chiyo," Sakura explained. "Would you mind giving her that for me?"

Temari shook her head. "Not at all." Tucking the note safely on her person, Temari gave Sakura one last hug goodbye, holding her tight for an extra moment in way of Kankuro's refusal to participate in anything heartfelt. _"She's coming back,"_ he had said, almost annoyed with the way his sister had demanded he be polite and wish Sakura well on her travels. _"It's not like I'll never see her again."_ He'd had quite the attitude in his voice after Temari's pestering, but his words had truly provided some comfort, spoken as if there were nothing to argue, and Temari knew that he had been right. Sakura would come back, she need only wait until then. "Be safe out there, okay?" she urged, resting a hand on her new friend's shoulder.

"Promise," she agreed. "Be sure to write to me? And let me know when you've got time off for a visit, I'm sure we could work something out. If you're ever in Konoha just let me know, you could stay with me instead."

Temari grinned and nodded. "Deal."

"Come on, guys," Kakashi called out to them, Sasuke and the ANBU already heading off into the countryside. "We're losing daylight."

"Coming!" Sakura called back, she and Naruto walking briskly to catch up.

Shikamaru took a step in their direction before pausing a moment. He faced Temari again, a hand running over his hair and a certain nervousness to his face. "Thanks for looking out for her, Temari."

She shrugged. "It's no problem."

He nodded, looking to the ground as he kicked around a few pebbles. "I'll, uh…I'll see you around?"

Temari grinned, her chest tightening a little at the way he looked up at her for his answer. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, nodding as she did so. "Yeah, you'll see me."

Seemingly satisfied with her answer, Shikamaru gave her a small nod in farewell and left to join the others. Her heart seemed to beat with a deep rhythm, she felt heavy and weightless all at once and found herself thinking. Sakura had stumbled into their desert with little more than a name and the clothes on her back yet had infiltrated their home and their lives in a way that was altogether welcome as well as needed. She'd given Gaara something to ease that ache of loneliness that plagued their family, and in doing so had eased her ache as well. If things continued, she hoped that it would only improve Gaara's outlook and his hope for a brighter future outside of the normal isolation and scorn he faced.

And, with the deep thumping echoing in her chest, she thought that maybe…maybe things would be better for her as well.

Only time would tell.

 **…**

On the eastern walls, a short ways from the gate, Gaara had perched himself. He was quiet, alone, and watching the sands as the Konoha team left his city and ventured out into the shifting dunes. Sakura was with them, nestled in the heart of the group, and with even steps at a manageable, pace she walked back into the sands that had nearly killed her. Only this time she didn't need him for protection, she had her team, her highly trained ANBU soldiers, and the love of her teacher and Naruto to keep her safe.

This was his way of seeing them off, a silent and unnoticed watch to make sure they saw the start of their journey safely before they reached the edge of his perception. As he sat there in the quiet breeze, waiting for the right moment to make his way back to his duties with Temari and her team, he thought back over all that had transpired.

It was an eventful few days with the most perplexing beginning. He'd never imagined that he would find Sakura out there, not in his wildest assumptions, but in a way, he was glad that he did. She'd nearly died out there and it was a strange sensation to know that he'd saved someone, not just killed them; a peculiar idea to think that he had protected someone rather than endanger them, to know that he had been welcomed and sought after, not shunned and ignored. All this she had done with merely the slightest effort, no thought or care given to how her actions would appear to others, and in the end, he would have to admit that he'd be eternally grateful for how she had spent her time here. With his family…with him.

But that was over now, her time in the desert country had come to an end much like he always knew it would…but still.

His mind buzzed with questions, questions that were always answered by that deep and guttural voice that haunted his thoughts, promising loneliness and damnation for him and nothing more. It seemed to get to him more than usual this quiet morning. Perhaps it was because he'd been shown that warmth and kindness he'd hungered for his whole life and now that he had a taste, he was terrified to go back to the outcast he once was. The outcast that he _still_ was…at least to everyone sleeping within the walls on which he sat.

But there were many things besides this woman with a strange sense of wanderlust that plagued his thoughts this morning. Implications of her presence and actions that would ripple through his life these next few days were all common musing points, and all the while she would be long since gone from the mess she'd made of his thoughts. Then again, she hadn't been the only one to make a mess of him on this little journey of hers.

Gaara thought of his fight then, when he had killed the man in the desert, and how the man had told him that nothing short of living for power and victory could bring purpose to one's life. It was just as he had once believed, a code he thought reserved only for the most formidable and the most elite. It had seen him through many victories, bearing witness to his prowess in battle, but it hadn't brought him victory over the leaf. It hadn't beaten Naruto as it had so many others in the past, it hadn't taken Sasuke down after tearing into his shoulder, and it hadn't been enough for this enemy to take Gaara down either. Gaara had prevailed because, unlike his opponent, he had been shown a different way, one far more tempting with much greater rewards. After all, Sakura had come stumbling into his desert, bearing all the aberrant complexity he could handle, and presented him with proof of his new convictions. Forgiveness, familiarity, and simple, quiet company.

Things to fight for, things to protect. True purpose.

Gaara pulled the picture from his pocket, careful not to bend the paper and put creases over the glossy surface, and studied the face that had so bewildered him in the flesh. He felt the continuous thumping of her heart through that little pendant, felt the energy that pumped through her blood, but it did indeed get softer as she moved away. At one point, he knew, she'd be too far gone and he would lose track of her. She would be back to the forest and her life would return to normal far away from her turmoil in the desert.

Left here, in the desolate and unforgiving desert where _he_ belonged, he yet again sat secluded and alone from the populous around him. The bustling and thriving city in the sand somehow felt a little hollower, a little emptier now that he couldn't feel that beacon of life he'd first followed into the empty dunes. There was a part of him that despised going back to the city, returning to those resentful streets without her. He knew nothing had changed, he was still feared, still hated and despised, and he could feel an impending attack brewing like a storm on the horizon. It had been a while since he'd faced an assassin meant to kill him, he figured he'd been overdue for a while now. No matter if the warmth he'd been momentarily blessed with was real or not, it wasn't meant for him.

A life on edge, a life alone and at the constant suspicion of the world; that was the life _he_ was returning to, but he at least took solace in knowing she wouldn't be around to see it.

" _I know how much you must hope, but…"_

Had that man been right? Was there more truth to his words than Gaara cared to admit to himself? Perhaps it would only solidify the beliefs he was trying to leave behind, making his new path a pointless and exhaustingly fruitless endeavor. But those words had circled his brain a thousand times over, a vicious cycle he couldn't understand. Did he hope? Did he even have enough of a _chance_ to hope? Was there ever going to be an opportunity to prove them all wrong, to show that he wasn't at the whim of his demon, to prove he could do more than just fight their fights? And if there wasn't ever a chance, if he was only meant to be doomed to this life…would anyone still be there in his failures?

His eyes fixed on hers in the picture, a rendition that didn't match the depth and color of the real thing, as if the small photo could answer his doubtful inquiries. He couldn't feel that pulse anymore, realizing only then that he'd been looking for it, and in the windy silence of the desert, she was gone. Just like that his sands returned to normal, everything back in place…in its resentful, cold, and shitty place.

" _No, Gaara…not even her."_

Yeah, that's what he figured.

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×


	21. Sequel Posted

***Sequel is up and running***

Follow the Sun; Excerpts in Time.


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